Dammerung
by Smego Baggins
Summary: After the events is Marilla, 5yearold Legolas starts to have nightmares, and discovers something very frightening about his own kind. Only things start turn deadly went he is captured, and time quickly begins to run out for the young elf.
1. Dreams Interrupted

Dammerung  
  
Title: Dammerung (it's German for Twilight)  
  
Author: Me. Smego Baggins  
  
Summery: Our elf discovers a lonely and dying horse, so he and Aragorn's son attept to comfort it, forming a close bond.  
  
Betaed by: NO ONE!!! Yeah, um people you're gonna finally see my REAL writing style, my grammar and spelling sucks and my sentence and paragraph structure have nothing to be desired.  
  
Rating: PG for now, but maybe rated higher for torture of both mind and body.  
  
Archived: Yes, but ask.  
  
AN: Okay I blame MagicalRachal for this, she made a remark in her review and it sparked an idea. And after a few e-mails I had a basic idea of what to write, and here it is! I also haven't finished this fic, so it won't be too fast in the updating department. So I hope that M-R is happy with this and reviews the fic that is DEDICATED TO HER!!!  
  
Dedication: For MagicalRachel, who wanted to see beyond the horizon of Marilla. And for my grandmothers, who love me no matter what I am.  
  
Chapter 1: Dreams Interrupted  
  
Soft bed sheets were twisted around the torso of the young Prince of Mirkwood as he struggled to wake from the dream he was currently in. The pale moonlight pooled itself upon his sweaty face and young features.  
  
It was the same . . .  
  
**  
  
His arrows were all but spent and the rocks that provided extra weaponry and protection, were starting to run low on the supply. Satisfied and sure that the enemy was either dead or unconscious, Legolas lowered himself on the branch and rested his throbbing head in his small hands.  
  
A rustling alerted the young elf and his ears picked up to hear the sound better. Not seeing any change around him, Legolas looked below him down to the ground and blanched at the sight that greeted him.  
  
The body of the first orc he'd killed was attempting to rise from the ground, but as his head was no longer attached to his spine, the task was more difficult to complete. It quickly made short of this difficulty by snapping it's head back in place. Frozen in place by his terror, Legolas could only watch, his eyes wide and mouth open in shock as the orc then proceeded to sniff the air, searching for it's quarry.  
  
A wave of absolute panic washed over the small elf as the yellow eyes settled upon his own, and a shiver jolted the lean muscles as Legolas saw they no longer held a soul, even a demon, or life behind them. His quick and shallow breath hitched in his throat and chest as the orc began to try and climb the tree that held him well away from the danger.  
  
Looking wildly around, Legolas begged the trees to aid him and shelter his body for a spare moments. Only as he layed a hand on the rough bark of an Oak, Legolas realised that these trees and other plants in the forest were foreign and he couldn't understand their language, which only confused him more.  
  
He was utterly alone.  
  
Abandoning all dignity and grace that was known for his race, Legolas squealed in panic and screamed for his sister Alassë to rescue him, when she showed no sign of appearing he began to call for one of the archers or Rogan to shot down the orc that was now half-way up the tree. It's vacant eyes now holding a mad glint within them, with only made the elf panic more and beg it to leave him.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please leave me be!!" Legolas sobbed hot tears slipping from his eyes and down his distressed face as he attempted to climb higher, away from the orc. "I won't do it again, please! Atara, plasea help me!"  
  
The orcs only response at the elf's panic and distress was to sneer horribly, which reflected him Legolas's wide grey eyes.  
  
It climbed a little higher, cornoring Legolas, where he could not jump to another tree, or land safely on the ground if he chose to leap. The sneer grew wilder as it's bloodied and scaly fingers gripped the young elfs leg and pulled sharply.  
  
**  
  
Grey eyes gradually unglazed themselves and immediately met green.  
  
Not making a sound or panting in attempts to catch his breath Legolas sat up and Marilla backed away quietly, his sheets pooling around his thin frame as he clutched them tightly hoping to calm his racing heart that was dancing in his chest.  
  
Marilla curled up against her 'kittens' chest and purred quietly but continuously that was comforting to his distressed and confused mind. Legolas rubbed her behind the soft velvet ears absentmindedly while thinking about his dream. It was a well known fact that elves rearly had nightmares or trouble sleeping from a danger that was in the past. Only for some odd reason, Legolas's mind wouldn't let him have an easy sleep.  
  
Sighing, Legolas rose and settled himself besides his large window looking towards the stars that winked and giggled silently at him from far off. His 'atara' snuggled against him, determined to calm her child and make him rest.  
  
"What have I done, atara?" he asked quietly. "I had to escape them, but was it right to harm them so that they would suffer?"  
  
A soft 'meow' was the only answer.  
  
"I don't know, either," the little elf sighed. "But maybe it was the right choice."  
  
~*~  
  
It wasn't unusual for the halls to be deserted during the night, most of the elves patrolled the borders of the forest or outside the most obvious of entrances.  
  
Orcs, after all, were not credited for their intelligence or ambush abilities.  
  
Still, Legolas had not spent his time with Marilla foolishly; she'd taught him to be swift, cunning, vigilant and above all else, aware of your surroundings.  
  
Making sure that his cloak was tightly around him, Legolas pulled out a candle and attempted to reach a torch that was still alight with fire. Frowning, Legolas knew that he couldn't reach it, nor would the bookcase besides it hold his light weight.  
  
The answer to the riddle was answered by Marilla purring and rubbing herself against his tiny legs. Placing the thin stick of wax in his mouth, he picked her up and placed her on the highest level that he could reach. Marilla sat next to the elvan books and he could have sworn that she scrawled at him disapprovingly. The elf then offered the candle to her, and sighing, the cat gently took the stick and held it against the fire, careful not to burn her beautiful fur.  
  
Smiling at her gently, he gathered the cat up in his slender arms, when she had made herself comfortable upon his shoulders, he picked up the candle and walked out of the airy hallway.  
  
The moon was out tonight, pooling down her light down on the path that both elf and cat followed, rendering the soft glow of the candle unnecessary. Blowing it out and placing it in some bushes for later retrieval, Legolas apologised for wasting Marilla's time by lighting it in the first place. She just purred in forgiveness.  
  
With his feet not in any type of shoe or slipper, Legolas was careful not to tread on any stone or pointed stick that could cause any type of injury to his soft feet. Marilla had now jumped off of his shoulders and padded silently besides him, her eyes like bright lamps in the dark.  
  
Within moments the huge arc door frames stood before them, two horses decorated the wood doors, one of a stallion and the other a mare, upon their rear legs. These two horses were the carving of the first horses owned by the king of Mirkwood and the stables were built in their memory.  
  
Looking at the carved creatures for a moment, Legolas pushed the door open, careful not to make a sound as he entered. The moment he entered, heads bent out of their stalls to meet and nicker softly at the young prince. Twenty-five and he was here for only one.  
  
Jewel.  
  
When his mother was alive, she would take him for the wildest of rides upon her. The Andalucian would neigh with pleasure and anticipation whenever they approached with her tack, her dark eyes bright and her proud head nodding in agreement as his mother talked softly to her own beauty.  
  
But those days were now passed, and the once almost mystical animal was now a shadow of her former self. Her coat was dull and harsh, and her eyes never sparkled with joy at seeing any of the elves. And she berely acknowlegde that any elf, other then Legolas, was there.  
  
She had lost herself.  
  
Making no sound as he sought for her stable, Legolas let Marilla guide him in the soft moonlight towards the wanted place. Her soft feet made no sound as she sniffed and checked that they were alone with Jewel.  
  
The stable door was closed. Legolas was undaunted by this and watched as Marilla leapt lightly on to the top of the door and watch as he figured out how to climb this without making a single sound. Sighing, he fingered the bronze plate with Jewel's name carved into it as he remembered the months that had passed.  
  
His reminiscing was broken by the horse's soft and barely heard nicker. Hoisting himself up also, Legolas saw Jewels dark eyes staring back.  
  
"Suilad, Miiir.*" Legolas whispered as he landed softly in the hay covered stall. "Did I wake you?"  
  
Not answering in his tongue, he took that as a 'no'. Making sure that the single candle in her stall was out of danger as he lit it with a match that lay upon the ground outside Jewel's stable door., Legolas settled down besides the resting horse. Legolas's golden halo of a head rested against her board chest as she breathed in and out silently.  
  
A second head joined them this time. It was Ruby, his own horse that his brother and sister had given Legolas for his birthday. Her large brown head was over the side as she watched her young master dozing in the warmth of their quiet and unconditional love.  
  
The straw was warm and comforting to his troubled mind and Jewel's broad back served well as a place to drape ones body over. The only sounds in the musky stable that night was Marilla's contented purring and the deep rumbling of the mares stomach as she munched on her bedding.  
  
In all of the world, this was the five-year-olds favourite place, and he could often be found sleeping in amongst the straw with Jewel or his own Ruby. Deciding that he wasn't going to sleep well here either, Legolas pulled himself up on the horses back and began to braid her main, starting with her forelock  
  
The candle in the stable flickered and steadied itself as a cold wind picked up, making the little elf shiver involuntary, something was going to happen. Rising his head a little, Legolas could hear voices speaking.  
  
". . . not eating or responding," whoever it was sighed. "We have no choice. She must be put out of her misery."  
  
Pausing in braiding her forelock, Legolas listened harder. He knew these voices, one was Rogan's and the other was an elf that 'helped' look after Ruby.  
  
"What about the young prince?" asked Rogan asked quietly. "This will surely pain him greatly."  
  
"She is starving herself!" Táralóm argued fiercely. "You want to be responsible for a royal horse's death, be my guest."  
  
A deep sigh was the reply, and Legolas could almost see Rogan nod. "I'll get the kings permission in the morning."  
  
Looking at Marilla in pure horror on his fair face, the little elf was unable to speak.  
  
They were going to kill Jewel.  
  
*****  
  
Translations:  
  
1) Suilad, Miiir. = Greetings, Jewel.  
  
AN 2: Well, you could review now, please? Flames will be used to keep me VERY warm, as it's still cold in Orange. So my ratties and I will welcome the warmth.  
  
I was also thinking of making this into a mini-series, just based on Legolas and the elvan quality that they seem to have with animals. So I was gonna call it the Deliverence Series, as he's either rescuing or being rescued by animals, humans or more than not his brothers and sisters? Think I should go ahead, try for the stars and bring home a comet? Sorry, it's a comment that my Year Advisor always says whenever we're feeling depressed. 


	2. What They Really Are

AN: I would like to apologise about the summery in the first chapter, I accidentally unloaded the summery of a fic that's not meant to be published for a long time. It's quite good and the ending made my cousin Adrian cry like a baby. He's 22 in December.  
  
Also for the delay for the update, I've recently suffered from the aeroplane disease Deep Vein Thrombosis. Only, it (the blood clot) is from the tip of the major vein to my heart that then goes to my right arm, so I've been on a drip and under constant annoying vigilance from family, friends, nurses and doctors. But I'm kinder okay now on twice daily injections of blood thinner, still, it shows that I'm stubborn and love my Fanfiction. But what would make me feel better is reviews and plenty of money or hugs from the elves.  
  
Dedication: For the ones who believe they do wrong when in fact they do right. It's only your fears that speak, not your conscious. And for the people and nurses at The Sydney Children's Hospital Randwick, you guys are SOO under-appreciated, go the strike and GET THAT PAY RISE!!!  
  
Chapter 2: What They Really Are  
  
Immediately Legolas jumped over the door and stood in the middle of the stables. He stood there breathing rapidly and out of control that soon his head felt light. Seeing that Rogan and Táralóm had not left yet, he raced for Rogan and pulled on his arm, nearly in tears. Looking down in surprise, Rogan blink at what he was seeing.  
  
"What are you doing, Legolas?" he asked softly. "You should not be up this time of night, it's not safe."  
  
Now, with silent tears pouring down his fair face, Legolas managed to stumble over his sobs to tell the older elf firmly. "Hon avo dhago."  
  
Kneeling down, Rogan held the elflings shaking shoulders. "We are not going to kill her, Legolas. We are merely trying to stop her pain."  
  
"Then help her," Legolas mumbled, his lip still trembling. "Don't punish her, what would atara say?"  
  
Now, to come to think of it, Rogan thought, what would Lady Lasilaem say if she found out her favourite horse was to be put to sleep? She would have him without any position within the guards stand on the spot, he thought humourlessly.  
  
"I'll make a deal with you," Rogan said softly as he took the little elf's hand. "If you can get Jewel to eat and respond to us again, I won't have her put to sleep. But I'll only consider this if you go to bed, before your father or siblings find out."  
  
Looking at the stall that held the white horse, Legolas finally nodded. "You promise not to hurt her?"  
  
Putting his right hand over his heart, Rogan pledged. "You have the word of Rogan, your fellow protector and friend."  
  
Nodding in satisfaction, Legolas started to make his way back to bed with the white cat following in his wake, the little elf stoped, turned and looked at Rogan. "You won't tell my father I was here, will you?"  
  
A small smile grew on Rogan's lips. "That will also be put upon my pledge, little one."  
  
Satisfied, Legolas left.  
  
~*~  
  
"Why won't they leave me alone?" sobbed a small elf hours later, the pale moon made his fair hair glow against his pale skin. Silver tears now streamed from his innocent grey eyes and fell upon the white fur of a purring cat who was trying her best to calm the child.  
  
"I just wanted her back, but the dreams are too scary, Marilla." He continued to sob, his chest heaving in gasps as he tried to calm himself down. "They want me, they hate me for hurting their friend."  
  
Green eyes continued to look at grey as Legolas continued to cry, she knew that crying was helpful but the amount that this little one did seemed to concern her deeply. When he was alone, or in bed he sobbed and called for his mother until he fell into a sleep where he would toss until he awoke crying that he was 'sorry'. But whenever his family was around he was happy and his usual self, a mask for his emotions, she believed it was called.  
  
His weeping quietened down and he again layed back on his mattress with Marilla tightly against his tiny chest. He was holding the very thing that reminded him of his mother, and he still couldn't feel her there. "I just wanted her back." Legolas murmured as his eyes began to glaze with sleep.  
  
~*~  
  
"Have you been sleeping these past few nights, Legolas?" came a soft voice.  
  
Legolas continued to stir his breakfast around his bowl, not having heard his sisters voice. Alassë lowered her head to look into her brother's downcast eyes to see if he heard. Unnatural for an elf, Legolas's eyes were pale and with slight creases beginning to form under his lids.  
  
She tried again. "Legolas?"  
  
His head snapped up and he stoped playing with his food. "Yes?"  
  
"Have you been sleeping well?" Alassë asked again.  
  
"Yes," he lied, "why?"  
  
"Because you look awfully tired." Answered Cassageln, shovelling a spoonful of honeyed porridge into his mouth. Legolas wrinkled his nose at his brothers manners and ability to eat more than his elvan mouth could hold.  
  
"Legolas, no faces at the table, please." Thranduil sighed, also noticing Cassageln's manners. "Cassageln, put less in your mouth."  
  
"But I'm hungry!" he protested.  
  
"I don't care!" Thranduil said more harshly. "Remember who you are, and it's not a pig!"  
  
"Yes, ada." The elf replied.  
  
"Can I be excused?" came Legolas's small voice. "I'm not hungry anymore."  
  
Thranduil watched his son for a moment or two, nodding his head slightly in permission, his father closely examined Legolas's face and movements as his son scampered way, almost desperately.  
  
"This mood is sudden." Lúrin mused quietly, and he also topped his breakfast with honey and sugar.  
  
"I don't believe so, I think it's being going on for some time." Alassë frowned as she also watched her brothers disappearing form down the hall. "We just don't see it happen."  
  
~*~  
  
Sting in the deep straw, Legolas dozed between Jewel's legs, feeding the white mare bits of carrot every now and then, Marilla stretched out over the horses back, her head snuggled in the golden falls of the young elf's hair.  
  
Rogan had discovered the prince in the stall, sleeping with his hand held in mid-air just under Jewel's muzzle, apparently still unconsciously thinking he held a treat within his palm. A small smile grew on the Commanders lips, since the rescue of Legolas in the tree-tops he'd noticed that now Legolas seemed tired and most likely suffered from nightmares.  
  
The arm dropped into the straw and the little elf muttered something as he rolled over to bury himself in the soft snow white mane. Deciding to leave Legolas to his untainted dreams, Rogan went out to find one of the other royal elvan-children and let them know their brothers whereabouts.  
  
Quiet eyes of the horse watched as the elf left, they were worried for both her and this child's safety. Nuzzling the elf's chest gently, Jewel made a deep and loving nicker to Legolas, who's response was an empty hand just under the muzzle and a murmur for the 'horsy to be quiet'.  
  
~*~  
  
Making sure that no one was around, a white cat slipped her head out of the ajar wooden door before slipping the rest of her soft body after her, closely a pare of naked and pale feet followed the cat quietly, who paused every now and then to make sure her peruser was staying close.  
  
The dreams had come again and had awoken the small being, but now it had shown a door along a quiet and dark corridor where the orcs went after they had grown weary of taunting their prey. Knowing that the door was somehow connected to the dream, tonight Legolas would try to fight the demon.  
  
It was with some mild surprise that he found the huge double oak doors with slightingly frightening ease, it was as if something or someone wanted him to find it. Letting his small, thin and slender fingers grasp the round bronze handle, Legolas pushed down on the handle and pushed forward.  
  
The stench was incredible and if wafted over both the elf and female cat as they entered. Marilla started to make a choking sound in her throat and Legolas had to pull his thin night-shirt over his sensitive nose. So this was what death smelt like? He mused quietly.  
  
Fifteen orc bodies lined the floor of the filthy ground, it was slippery and thick where the orcs black blood oozed and caked the floor thickly. Feeling slightly dizzy, curiosity now took hold of Legolas and her stepped into the room that had apparently been forgotten about.  
  
Legolas found the orc, and kneeled in the thick blood that slipped from the broken green/grey skin on the neck, where the fatal sharp rock had hit.  
  
"This is not a place for children, especially ones that are trying to forget the past." Came a quiet voice, but still Legolas almost jumped six inches in fright.  
  
"Rogan?" the little elf replied. "Why have they not been buried?"  
  
"They are creatures that were of our light, but they turned from us." Rogan said with slight disgust in his soft voice, and he kneeled next to the prince also. "When they did, they lost the privilege to be buried with our kindred as well."  
  
"Everything deserves to buried," the five-year-old commented quietly. "Even if they are or were elves."  
  
"You knew? How?"  
  
"You said they were of our light, I may be only 5, but I am smart." A nervous grin lit Legolas's eyes for a brief second. "I still believe that he disserves to be buried, don't you Rogan?"  
  
"I believe that they should all be burnt and never allowed to enter past Mandos's gates." Trying to comprehend these harsh words, Legolas again looked at the body. Rogan could only guess what was going through the son of Thranduil's mind.  
  
"But he was an elf once . . ." Legolas trailed off, unsure if his words were true or appropriate for him to say. "So doesn't he deserve to be buried like one?"  
  
"He was an elf . . . once," Rogan said calmly. "But his soul was tortured and twisted against his will, even if we could, he would never again grace this world as an Elder."  
  
"But he *was* one, he must have been in there somewhere, fighting the black hurt." Legolas sounded almost pleading. "He will be released from his dark thoughts, won't he?"  
  
A look crossed Rogan's face and he knelt in front of the elf. "Why are you so determined to see this particular orc buried?"  
  
Taking a deep breath and letting it go unsteadily, he looked at the older elf with tear filled eyes. "He was the one that I killed first. I . . . murdered him."  
  
A sharp intake of breath and realisation finally came to Rogan's confused mind. "Who told you this?"  
  
"The orc," breathing slightly faster now Legolas wouldn't glance at Rogan. "I dream of the ones that I killed, but not of the ones that I injured."  
  
"Let me ask you a question, what was he trying to do when you killed him?"  
  
"Looking for me, to capture me and kill me."  
  
"In that case, the ends justify the means." Rogan dismissed.  
  
"But atara said that it was wrong to hurt or kill things for pleasure." Legolas said still not glancing at Rogan. "I don't think I'd like it if someone came and injured me because I am a elf."  
  
"But," this was hard, even for Rogan, who had limited experience with elflings. "It wasn't fun, now was it? Just because you defend yourself doesn't make you a murder, it doesn't make you anything."  
  
Grey eyes met blue, and a sort of feeling past the two. Legolas looked satisfied that he'd been told the truth and wasn't belittled or lied to because of his age or because of his title. Rogan had that thing about him, he treated you with the same manners, no matter who or what you were.  
  
"But," Rogan added. "Maybe sometimes orcs who still have a soul so very deep are allowed to rest, and even come back."  
  
"I hope so." Legolas murmured and again glanced at the corpse. "But I want him out of my dreams."  
  
"All in due time, my prince," Rogan said, a sad smile in his voice. "All in due time."  
  
****  
  
Translations:  
  
1) Hon avo dhago = Don't kill her  
  
AN: Well, seeming that tomorrow is Monday in Australia and I have Year 10 S.C. Trials, the next chapter may be a little slow, but I might be able to slip it in. After all, I've been known to come up with fic's in exams, so I'm allowed to write as along as I don't speak or give it to anyone. (Doesn't my school rock?) 


	3. Ambushed

AN: Yes, I know, I'm late. But I HAVE AN EXCUSE!!!!!  
  
I was in hospital. Again. They decided to do an ultrasound on my shoulder and found out that the clot decided to break off and travel ALL the way into my right arm, again. So now I have TWO clots. Lovely, I'm having the most greatest week. I've been keeping count and I've had over 56 needles (that includes 2 drips, twice daily injections of blood thinner *rat posion* and bloodtests) in the last 2 weeks, and the list is growing. So updates will actually be VERY VERY VERY slow. I have my SC in another 2 weeks.  
  
Dedication: For the reviewers, not that there is many, but at least you're encouraging.  
  
Chapter 3: Ambushed  
  
Sleepy eyes stared out at the swaying green leaves that hung from the various trees that surrounded the palace. Legolas had spent the last few hours simply gazing out of his window and into the cool afternoon air and by the smell of it, a storm was going to hit within the next few days. Now most children; man, elf, or dwarf, would have screamed by now for something to happen.  
  
But for Legolas, it was happening.  
  
Calm little whiffs of cool air played with the stray gold strands that rose and then fell onto pale-red cheeks. A small smile tugged at the corners of rosy lips and a slender hand rubbed at an itchy nose every now and then. Outside, little finches flew around wildly and other wood-land birds called out to their mates, and the little elf's spirit flew with them.  
  
Blinking himself out of his own world, Legolas looked around and wondered when his sister would call him for lunch. Deciding to find out when it would be, he pushed himself off of his bed and toddled down the corridor, letting his fingers glide over and along the various wood carvings on walls of his home.  
  
~*~  
  
Fifteen minutes later Legolas walked out of the kitchens munching on a delicious red apple. The roughness and sweetness made him thoroughly enjoy the snack that the head cook had placed in his hands. But he also held two more, another red and one green, and made his way towards the stables.  
  
As he got closer, Legolas's ears picked up on angry cries and shouts in Sindarin. From then panic took over and, dropping the apples, Legolas bolted for the stables.  
  
When he reached the doors, chaos met his horror filled eyes. Two elves that he knew and another two that he didn't were now trying to convince Jewel out of her stall. They had a rope tied to her halter and were tugging on it to encourage her to rise for them, all the while shouting at each other in anger for not doing their given task proper mind.  
  
"No, leave her!" the little elf screamed in terror. "You said she would be safe!"  
  
Táralóm barked an order at one of the elves, who took the rope. The black haired elf walked up to him and attempted to be friendly towards the younger elf, Legolas saw straight through it. "This is not a place for you, at the moment, my prince." Táralóm said, in what he hoped, was a calm voice.  
  
His grey eyes still wide, Legolas shook his head. "Jewel, what are you doing? She is scared by you!"  
  
Táralóm's eyes seemed to soften, and he knelt down. "She is suffering, you must understand, she will never come back from where she is."  
  
Complete rage glazed Legolas's grey eyes at the sentence and he threw himself at Táralóm to try to get past the taller elf. "Jewel, NORO!! DELIO!" he yelled at the white mare.  
  
"Legolas, stop this!" came a voice that meant salvation to his ears. Rogan stood there at the doors with utter confusion on his face, his hands at his hips. "What is going on?"  
  
Táralóm stood straight up, looking the older elf in the eye and bowing slightly. "She is showing no signs or progress of our rehabilitation attempts, we are left with no other choice, it is for the best."  
  
"That's a lie!" Legolas cried, tears threatening to spill. "I've been feeding and keeping her company. She is doing well!"  
  
"My prince," Táralóm said, impatience in his body language and voice. "No offence meant, but what would you know of the care and well being of horses?"  
  
"More than you, I take it." Rogan commented. "Is this really necessary?"  
  
Bowing again, Táralóm nodded. "There is no other way."  
  
"I WON'T LET YOU!!" screamed Legolas hatefully, and ran straight for the panicked mare. "Lheitho san! Lheitho san or I will hurt you!"  
  
Upon hearing Legolas's voice, the mares ear's rose from her skull and she looked downwards at the little elf. He gently patted her sweaty neck as he whispered to her softly, looking deep into her dark eyes he undid the ropes and, glancing away to guide his hand more thoroughly, slipped her lead-rope onto her. Then he tugged on her halter and spoke to her again.  
  
"Oronte, Jewel, oronte." Now only knowing his voice, she could now trust the small one, he would be kind and not yell harsh words to her sensitive ears. Rising herself a little, Jewel pushed her bulk up and nickered at Legolas gently when she was completely standing.  
  
Táralóm watched for a few seconds, then attempted to take the lead from the tiny grasp. "Thankyou, my prince, can I have her now?"  
  
"No!" Legolas replied looking fearfully at Rogan and Táralóm. "And you never shall!" Rogan walked closer and attempted to take the length of rope from Legolas. In an instant, Legolas smacked Rogan's hand away from the horse, who's head jerked up in a start.  
  
"You touch her!" her said his fear turning to anger at the elf he'd considered a friend. "And I'll leave my own mark, not on your heart but on your skin!" and Legolas left with Jewel walking besides him.  
  
~*~  
  
Jewel happily munched on the apple that Legolas had picked up from the floor, giving his own fallen apple to his fathers stallion, called Embros, the little elf then boldly decided to ride his mothers horse. Now as he was still learning, a bridle and reins, minus the bit, was what he needed. Telling Jewel to stay, Legolas went into the tack room and found a big enough fitting for the horses head.  
  
Taking off her halter, Legolas gently slipped the tack on her lowered head, buckling up the silver buckles and testing their strength. Satisfied, Legolas pulled the reins over her neck and led her to a nearby stump. Gathering the reins and her mane gently but firmly, Legolas pushed himself up and felt meters taller when he looked around at his surroundings.  
  
Jewel's ears flickered around nervously and she lifted her head, as if looking for a danger that wasn't around. Her eyes were a little more wide and her nostrils were flared in agitation as her tail swished furiously from side to side.  
  
"Jewel," Legolas asked a little worried at the horses behaviour. "Man na rhoeg?"  
  
The horse tossed her head, making Legolas jump a little and hold to both her mane and reins. Whimpering slightly, the elf wondered why the mare was acting up so much when no danger was present. Then a frightful thought began to dawn.  
  
"You fear me?" he asked quietly, as if not daring to believe it. "But I did nothing to hurt you. I fed you carrots . . ." Legolas trailed off, as if the carrots had meant everything to him.  
  
Looking around, to make sure that no one saw how Jewel was acting, Legolas moved his body forward, asking the mare to move for him, and something seemed to change in Jewel immediately. She stoped her fidgeting around and shook her head, then complied and stepped forward, soon Legolas had her in a rising trot and then a collected canter. Galloping was too wild for him at the moment, especially as he didn't have an adult riding behind him.  
  
Jewel was concentrating on keeping her step light and making sure that the elf upon her back was steady and sure of himself. Feeling his confidence grow, this maybe why that both Legolas and Jewel failed to notice the two figures coming down a hidden path.  
  
"Legolas!" a female voice called out, "get off of her! NOW!"  
  
The response was instantaneous.  
  
Jewel threw her head up and reared, neighing wildly. She then tried to put her head down and buck, but her young rider was to quick and pulled as hard as he could to stop her from kicking out. Taking another plan of action, Jewel then tossed her head to the side, wrenching the reins out of Legolas's already raw hands, and swung sharply to the left and then the right, throwing Legolas off balance.  
  
Before he could steady himself, Jewel reared again and this time dislodged her small rider. Legolas couldn't stay on, no matter how hard he tried, he slipped backwards off of Jewel, instinct took over and he rolled on the ground to get clear of the mares hooves.  
  
Immediately, when he was clear, Legolas felt strong hands lift him to his feet and, as he watched, another elf took hold of the spooked horses reins. Looking up he saw that his sister, Alassë, was the one who lifted him up off the ground. She looked livid.  
  
"What in Elbereth are you doing?" she hissed angrily. "You can no longer ride Jewel, she is too dangerous for you to ride. Legolas you don't have the skills nor the knowledge to ride her."  
  
"She was alright when I rode her! And I don't need the skills for Jewel!" Legolas defended, dusting the earth from his leggings. "You scared her silly, that's she threw me off!"  
  
Cassageln was patting the startled mare's neck, soothing her with words in his native tongue and scratching her ears, but Jewel continued to fidget, nicker and look around nervously as she did before Legolas had calmed her enough to ride. Looking over, he saw that an argument was starting to brew between the two siblings. "Listen to Alassë, Legolas, she knows what she's speaks of."  
  
"Stop trying to stick up for her!" the 5 year-old shot back. "She knows nothing of Jewel's suffering!"  
  
A brief flash of anger went across Alassë's face, but she shelved her harsh feelings aside to calm her brothers confused mind. Legolas then walked up to his brother and took Jewel's reins, despite his brothers protests.  
  
"Legolas," his sister pleaded and placed her hand upon Legolas's shoulder. "She is unrideable, let her be free. Let her remember and not think she is being punished for something she didn't do."  
  
"I do not believe you," Legolas said, tightening his grip on the leather reins. "Not after Rogan lied to me."  
  
"You must take her back!" Cassageln yelled at his brother. "She is too dangerous, we will make sure that she is safe from being harmed."  
  
"No, no!" Legolas cried, shaking his little head furiously as he held Jewels reins. "You will only take her from me! She is scared, she does not understand that it was not her fault!"  
  
And with that he clambered onto his mothers horse who pranced in uncertainty. With a click of his tongue, Jewel leapt forward and cantered out of sight leaving the two older elves behind.  
  
"LEGOLAS!!" Cassageln screamed after his brother and he started to run after the younger elf and white horse but his sister held him back with a hand and a glance.  
  
"Even sick, Jewel is too fast." She said calmly. "Only one horse, fathers stallion, can equal her speed, only we don't have the skills to ride him! It is folly trying to catch them now!" Alassë looked around, as if she searched and hoped that some miracle would reveal itself to them  
  
"Then how do we talk sense into him?" her brother pleaded. "Legolas is like Lúrin when he gets a false thought in his head."  
  
"I don't know." Alassë finally said, looking in the direction that her youngest brother had disappeared. "But I fear for his safety."  
  
~*~  
  
Looking behind him to see if his sister or brother were following, Legolas pulled Jewel into a brief halt. His senses were heightened to hear the little foot-falls or the slowly released breath of a fellow elf. After a few moments there was none so he again pushed Jewel into a canter.  
  
They soon reached a small creek and both the elf and horse had a quick and refreshing drink from the clear shallows. The little elf watched as the mare went slowly from drinking to gradually grazing on the sweet greenery. An idea sparked. "There is a clearing not too far, do you care to race the shadows?" Legolas asked softly, rubbing her neck.  
  
Jewel nodded as if this was the most wonderful thing in the world to think of. Grinning, Legolas took the reins and mounted once again, tuning Jewel west he urged her into a canter. Within moments the forest opened and a field of green and tall grasses lay at both of their feet. Smiling with pure happiness, Legolas didn't think twice and kicked the smooth sides of the equally excited mare.  
  
Jewel took off like a shot, leaving Legolas breathless. For a moment he was afraid that he was going to lose his seat, but then he leaned into the mare and began to sense the rhythm of her movement. Legolas could feel the muscles of the beautiful Andalucian rippling beneath him as they raced past startled dear, boulders and other grass-land wonders.  
  
The wind wiped the elflings hair into a frenzy and he screamed with joy as he felt like he was truly flying and everything was normal again. His mother would be waiting for him with open arms and he would tell her how much fun it was on her horses back and was she proud of him.  
  
Much of the afternoon was spent like this until both elfling and horse was exhausted and near collapsing point. While Jewel again grazed greedily besides Legolas, his eyes half closed as he fancied himself thousands of years from now enjoying himself after a tiring war. His great and brave war- horse would carry him into every battle with a look of daggers in his eyes and while it was home, he would be as gentle as a lamb around all the children.  
  
Soon sleep took over the elf and he was unaware of any danger that threatened his peace and contentment.  
  
~*~  
  
Jewel's panicked cry awoke Legolas with rapid urgency.  
  
Not having any weapons to defend himself with, Legolas tried to stay hidden in the tall grass, hoping that his cloak would help conceal his presence. Suddenly a strange language flowed towards him, and grey eyes widened in terror.  
  
"Orcs!" he whispered rooted to the spot. "Here . . . in Mirkwood?"  
  
A wet something touched the elfling's back and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Turning over he saw that the wet thing was actually Jewel's mouth, she had first spotted the orcs when taking a drink from the nearby spring. Patting her muzzle gently, Legolas let out a breath, and tried to pinpoint where the orcs were now.  
  
Everything was eerily quiet, too quiet for Legolas's mind. He'd played hide-and-seek with his siblings and knew when they and the world went quiet they were sneaking up on something.  
  
Then everything happened at once.  
  
Jewel reared and kicked out her front hooves, she did this as Legolas was rising. He turned and was struck in the left knee by Jewel's rising feet. Screaming, he fell to the ground in pain. Jewel landed then bolted into the forest with the reins flapping wildly amongst her front legs.  
  
A cry went out and two orcs went chasing after the retreating horse, attempting to slay her with their cruelly made arrows. Tears poured down the elflings face as he tried to hold back the vomit that wanted to surface, the pain was horrendous and almost to much to endure.  
  
It seemed that his cloak did hide him, but it didn't prevent injury. His young mind panicked and his pain filled eyes looked for a shelter, but as he placed his right hand out to steady himself, a huge foot came down upon it and he felt bone start to crack.  
  
This time the orcs noticed. A gnarled hand came down and yanked Legolas up by his green cloak and braided hair. "Well, well, well," the orc sneered pleasurably, bringing the elfling's terrified face to it's own ugly pug- like one. "It seems we have caught our prey after all."  
  
Legolas's only reply was only to whimper in utter terror and disbelief at what was happening, although his eyes remained closed. Tears of anguish and fright slipped between the closed eyelids and leaving their salty trails down pale cheeks.  
  
The orc harshly barked something out to it's companions and Legolas opened his eyes to see what was happening. Looking around, the little elf knew that his time was now being very slowly counted towards his own and unwanted end.  
  
While he had looked for a quick access into the plain, his young mind hadn't counted on needing a fast and easy exit. Now looking into the cruel eyes of the orc that had a hold of him, Legolas began to realise his mistake already.  
  
There was no escape for him.  
  
************  
  
Translations:  
  
1) Jewel, NORO!! DELIO = Jewel, RUN!! HIDE!!  
  
2) Lheitho san = Release her!  
  
3) Oronte, Jewel, oronte. = Rise, Jewel, rise  
  
4) Man na rhoeg? = What is wrong? 


	4. Ter Oiomornie: Through Endless Dark

Chapter 4: Ter Oiomornie (Through Endless Dark)  
  
With a few of his elvan fighters with him, Rogan ran the trees, his light feet not leaving any marks on the soft bark and with his bow at the ready. Word had spread quickly that a white horse was being pursued by two renegade orcs. To prevent needless slaughter or suffering, Rogan and his patrolling team had been summoned to catch the poor beast.  
  
For an odd reason something kept nagging at the back of the elf's mind, only when he was close to discovering the source of torment and pulling in his mind it would vanish like smoke on a windy day.  
  
"Hothron," one of the elves called out quietly, bringing Rogan out of his thoughts, "neled uuun hal near. Min a rokh. Tad most mavren yrch or edain."  
  
"Mae govannen." Rogan slipped into his native tongue before continuing in human, a habit he'd picked up from Legolas. "Now we hope."  
  
From far off a panicked whinny was heard and Rogan briefly closed his eyes, willing the animal their way. As if sensing his unspoken pleading, the white mare trotted into the elves keen view, but her body language and the tossing of her head clearly stated that something was amiss and another matter was also on her mind.  
  
As one, the elves notched their arrows or drew white knives from their hips, awaiting the two 'other' creatures that dared to prowl their own realm in their filthy quest to clam it for their own.  
  
Agonising seconds passed, but immortality taught one extreme imperturbability and an incredible endless supply of patience, these were traits that most warriors would betray for and Rogan made sure that his company knew that what they were born with was a true gift.  
  
Harsh cries came to the ears of the elves and while some taunted their strings without any emotion showing at all, a few of the Firstborn held anger and disgust on their fair features at the thought of the foul beasts that were now in their land.  
  
The two orcs also came into view and started stalking the now grazing horse. Her own eyes had caught sight of the elves in the trees above them and she had calmed down instantly, though her ears continued to flicker around in uncertainty. She then started to prance around in agitation as the orcs came ever closer.  
  
"SIIN!!" cried Rogan, releasing his arrow. Two arrows quickly finished the first orc, and it's companion looked around confusedly for a few seconds, wondering where the sudden assault came from, before he, too, fell dead.  
  
As two of the elves looked over the dead orcs to determine if they were the only party roaming or part of a scout, Rogan coaxed the mare to settle down and come towards him. Catching her, Rogan held her soft mane between his fingers and inspected the beautiful equine.  
  
For the first time Rogan seemed to notice something odd about the white mare. She was clearly a tamed animal only she had no saddle upon her broad back but her head had the soft leathers of an elvan bridle and reins. Showing that this was clearly an elf-horse.  
  
"But elves don't . . ." Rogan began to say to himself in puzzlement. Then something seemed to click, turning to one of his men, Rogan instructed the elf to see where the king's youngest son was.  
  
With a puzzled expression, Dúloth disappeared into the foliage of the trees.  
  
Moments passed before Dúloth reappeared again and didn't have a chance to speak what he had leant. Rogan knew, Legolas was in danger, again.  
  
~*~  
  
"I thought I was protecting him."  
  
"Protecting him from what?" Thranduil thundered, slamming his fist on the table.  
  
"From mortality. . ." Táralóm replied very quietly. "We meant to put our Lady's horse to sleep last night, but a foals birth prevented us from doing so. We were under way when Prince Legolas walked in."  
  
"You mean to inform me that my wife's horse was to be destroyed?" the king said in a calm and very dangerous voice. "Without my knowledge or permission?"  
  
"One of our informants said he'd been given permission, from you, sire." Dúloth replied, but still held his head high, while Táralóm looked downcast.  
  
"Why then did you not discontinued when my son was there?" Thranduil asked, his blue eyes watching the two elves squirm under his gaze.  
  
"We did, but he threw himself at Táralóm, begging him and I to leave Jewel be." Dúloth answered in earnest. "Rogan attempted to pull him off but Prince Legolas slapped his hand away and even threatened to bite him if we so much as *touched* her."  
  
Despite the situation, Thranduil had to hide a nasty smirk at the cost of his men. His son had a very soft spot for any 'defenceless' animal that padded within the Mirkwood realms, and would fight and argue fiercely if anyone tried to injure or kill any of his 'pets' for sheer enjoyment or to put them out of their misery. His argument being that if they were meant to be dead, they would have died from their wounds or trauma earlier.  
  
Sighing, Thranduil closed his eyes for a moment, pondering what to do and how to go about it. "When was he last seen? And where are my other children, he may have gone off with them."  
  
"That's just it, sire," Dúloth replied, "we cannot find them either. It's like they've disappeared off the face of Mirkwood."  
  
For some unknown reason, an icy chill went down the kings back. 'Oh Valar, help me.' He thought silently to himself. 'What have they gotten themselves into now?'  
  
~*~  
  
After assuring itself that Legolas wasn't a threat or that any other elves were about, the orc dropped the elfling on the ground where he landed in a heap of cloak and hair. Not able to stand, Legolas looked up at the orc with terror in his wide grey eyes, watching the creatures every move.  
  
"You expect me to carry you?" accused the orc in a dangerous voice. "Get up!! Now!!"  
  
All Legolas could do was watch in open mouth fright, not giving any hint of moving or making to get up.  
  
"UP!" roared the orc in anger. He then kicked Legolas in the midriff in anger and frustration, collecting the elfling in the ribs and stomach. The kick left Legolas winded and dazed, after the coughing fit had passed Legolas wiped his mouth of the saliva that dribbled down his chin and discovered that a streak of bright red was within the clear liquid. Not receiving an answer the orc grabbed the elfling by his fractured hand and shook him. "I said get up, filth!"  
  
"I . . . I . . . can't," Legolas finally sobbed out, completely confused at what this creature wanted or why he was so angry. "My . . . I . . . my knee hurts too much."  
  
The orc swore harshly and pulled the young elf up, slinging him over it's shoulder and catching up with the rest of the group.  
  
"You had better be worth this," the orc spat at the frightened 5 year- old. "Or I'll kill you myself."  
  
~*~  
  
"And then he raced off on Jewel!" Cassageln exclaimed as he finished telling his eldest brother, Lúrin of how Legolas had ran away.  
  
Lúrin sat there, head bowed and hand over his face, as he was holding back from screaming in fury at his other siblings. It was exactly like a few weeks before, this time Rogan and his men had killed two orcs hunting Jewel just grabbing her in time, only to find that Legolas was no where close or within the palace grounds.  
  
"You said he seemed to have jewel under control?" Lúrin finally inquired, looking at both his brother and sister. "Why, then, did you call out to him to get off her?"  
  
Alassë glanced at Cassageln for a mere second before continuing. "Lúrin, Jewel was attacked carrying atara, she was traumatised by it. I didn't want Legolas to injure himself on her."  
  
"If she was too shocked to carry a rider, she wouldn't have let any of us, even Legolas near her, let alone ride her." Lúrin replied with a voice above a whisper. "She would have struck him with her hooves and killed him instantly."  
  
"But she almost did!" Cassageln debated heatedly. "He fell off of her and then tried to kick him!"  
  
"Cassageln, where was Legolas at that time?" his brother asked calmly.  
  
The younger male elf for the first time seemed to re-visualise the memory and realised his mistake. "He was behind and almost underneath her." Cassageln finally admitted quietly.  
  
"So she wouldn't have seen him if it wasn't for your sister." Lúrin confirmed gently. He startled both of his siblings by slapping his thighs and rising. "If we are to find him, we must make hast. Now, what I am about to ask of you is going to be completely frowned upon by both father and most of the realm."  
  
Both Cassageln and Alassë blinked confusedly at their older brother. "Why would it be frowned upon?" Alassë ventured hesitantly. "If it's a way to rescue Legolas, then let's do it!"  
  
A faint smile lit their brothers face as he decided to let his plan go into action. "I'm going to use not our guards and own searches to find our brother, I'm going to use people who he trusts and knows very well."  
  
"And who would you be speaking off?" Cassageln implored, his blue eyes slits and his blond head cocked to the side. "Father wouldn't be allowed to go out by himself, not when orcs have been killed so close to home."  
  
His sister rolled her eyes and lightly tapped her brothers head. "He means us, you air-head elf!"  
  
Shock replaced the previous look and Cassageln looked from his sister to Lúrin, wondering if he was insane or if he truly spoke the truth. "You." He finally stuttered pointing to Lúrin, himself then Alassë. "Me. And Alassë?"  
  
"Think about it," Lúrin persuaded, "fathers guards will rush and not comb the area, this forest is dark and full of dark creatures that also hold their hidden lairs and tunnels. All of us, including others, know this forest like the designs upon our weapons."  
  
"What does this have to do with finding Legolas?" Cassageln pointed out. "As far as we know, this could be some scheme for you to do a double and then rescue us!"  
  
"Cassageln," Alassë whispered and took her brothers hand, "Legolas only trusts those he knows closely, he's distant even with acquaintances at the best of times, if he's . . . been taken," she shuddered at the thought, "he will only respond to those who care and he knows."  
  
"But the three of us cannot take on a bunch of orcs!" Cassageln protested loudly, making both of his siblings hush him, in case they were overheard.  
  
"This is what I will mostly be punished for," Lúrin began grimly, he sighed and hesitated for a few moments, "how good are some of your friends at archery, combat and fighting their conscious?"  
  
"Oh Lúrin," Alassë whimpered sadly, "surely not this. What if they're injured or worse?"  
  
"What do elves do when they are in their own element and in danger?" he asked, only answering her question in a riddle.  
  
"Why we are up the trees faster than an enmy can find us." Confirmed Cassageln blinking and it clicked. "We actually won't be using the ground, we'll be up in the trees. Alassë, we'll be striking where they lest expect, from warriors they don't know exist!!"  
  
"How many and who?" was all his sister said all suddenly bussiness-like.  
  
"Gather as many of your friends as you can!" Lúrin cried hurriedly as he raced for his own room in the palace for his weapons. He twirled around and pointed at his siblings. "And make sure they can fight, I'm not being responsible for elflings that cannot protect themselves."  
  
~*~  
  
Not wanting to anger the orc further, Legolas bit his lip in an attempt to keep himself from crying. He now was hurting in places that he didn't realise could ache. His knee and hand throbbed in time with his heart, his stomach was barely holding it's contents and his head felt annoyingly light.  
  
Still he kept quiet and hardly made any noise except for the odd whimper whenever the orc stepped down from a steep incline and even then he tried his hardest to muffle it.  
  
They finally came to a tiny clearing, where there was a small cave and a few unidentified saplings growing around the permiter of the caves entrance, it smelt of blood and death and the little elf's deep panic only grew as the smells assaulted his sensitive nose.  
  
Quite suddenly he was dropped and landed in a heap of whimpers and tears of pain. Not daring to move, or look up, Legolas layed there wondering what would happen.  
  
"It was hiding in the clearing, it's injured but will speak." The orc prolaimed triumphetly. A sudden pounding of feet came closer and Legolas tried to curl himself into a tight ball, but an almost untolerable pain slamed itself into his knee, so he just half-curled and covered his head with his arms.  
  
A hand roughly gripped his small arm and yanked it away from protecting his face. Closing his eyes tightly as he felt hot stinking breath on his face for a few seconds, Legolas kept himself from crying out loud. Finally his arm was dropped and he heard an argument break out.  
  
"Scum," cried one of the orcs, "it is a useless elfling, no use to us, kill it!"  
  
For an odd reason, courage seemed to make him resist the orcs orders and he rose into a sitting position behind the orcs. "Just let me go." He whispered quietly, but with obvious force behind the voice.  
  
It was with some shock that Legolas found himself sprawled on his back on the ground, his forehead stinging in agony.  
  
"We did not ask for your filthy opinion." The commanding orc spat in rage. Again scared senseless, Legolas could do nothing but back away from the orcs and into a tall tree that, upon sensing to touch of an elf, immediately began to sooth the deeply frightened soul.  
  
All in all there was no escape, there were fourteen or maybe thirteen of the foul beasts and when injured an elf could not help but make as much sound as men going on a leisurely stroll through the forest. One of the huge orcs looked up and sniffed the now moist air about them.  
  
"I smell a fierce storm," he locked eyes with Legolas's grey ones. "What about the filth, Uger?"  
  
"Leave it," grunted Uger as he disappeared into the small cave. "It won't go anywhere. Besides, didn't anyone tell you?"  
  
"If I were to know, I wouldn't be listening to your prattle." Snorted the other orc.  
  
"Elflings are like humans, weak and prone to illness."  
  
"But they are immortal,"  
  
"Yes, but they still can die of the cold." And with that both of the orcs laughed roughly and disappeared from sight, leaving Legolas alone in the fading darkness.  
  
Thunder rumbled and Legolas cowered, he was absolutely terrified of the sound as it was beyond loud for him, making his sensitive ears ring shrilly with the after effects. Looking around uncertiantly, the young elf wondered how long it would take for his family to realise that he was in actual danger. At the thought of his family, a sob escaped his lips.  
  
"I want to go home," he whispered to no one, curling up against the tree for some comfort.  
  
~*~  
  
Few hours had passed since Lúrin had sent his brother and sister to find capable elves to help hind his youngest brother, and during those hours Lúrin had pened a plan to hopefully justify the use of young elflings without getting them injured or killed and to safely rescue Legolas.  
  
A soft knock on his chamber door made the elf jump, turning around he saw that Cassageln was at the door way with five other elves, all around Cassageln's age.  
  
Two of the elves were female, but Lúrin could tell that they both were under combat training as they had gold ribbons tied to their left arms, symbolising accurate and well disciplined pupils in their studies, most likely of both weaponary and healing.  
  
The other three elves were Cassageln's own best friends, who went by the names of (in age of oldest to youngest) Draugdil, Rambamírë and Aglar. The two madiens were known as Neldëá and Gorë.  
  
"These are the only ones who can wield a bow or knife with proper skill." His brother ventured showing his the elves in turn. "Neldëá is also the daughter of our healer, Taurereg, and she also has skill with Orc posion, just in case."  
  
"Thank you, Cass," Lúrin nodded his approval. "Has our sister returned with her own finds?"  
  
"I have now," came her song-like voice as she entered. She had done away with her usual flowly gowns and was clad in brown leggens and a blue silk shirt and a green suead jacket, she looked the every bit of a wold-elf warrior. "I have also brought my friends, and also Lúrin, I ran into some of them."  
  
Her number now brought them up to twelve, counting themselves, and Lúrin was surprised that they were mostly males, while only one was female.  
  
"Dagorma, you already know," Alassë went on, gesturing at the white- haired female elf, who nodded politely. "Her brother Yávëtal, you also know, along with the twins, Quendur and Gayadur." The twins smiled in return while Dagorma's brother barely acknowledged Lúrin.  
  
"You all do realise what my brother, sister and I have asked of you is completly frowned upon and that it will most likely taint you until you sail from this land?" Lúrin asked the assembled elves. Most of them nodded, and didn't share glances with oneanother. Finally Gorë stepped forward.  
  
"I believe that I speak for all here when I say that we don't care about how people will look upon us forever, for we know we are doing right in finding a lost child." She smiled gently. "Also I would miss the happy laughter he brings whenever he visits Afadel, my youngest sister. I know she would never forgive me if I were not to have some part in his rescue." All agreed and murmured their approval of the current situation.  
  
With that, Lúrin gave the order for them to retreave their weapons and supplies for the journery ahead. ~*~  
  
It was actually the sudden change in temperature that awoke the cat from it's slumber than anything else. Fully wake, Marilla began to wash herself starting at her left shoulder, carefully working her way down before coming back up.  
  
Flickering her ears around for a moment of concentration, Marilla noticed that something was missing and couldn't put her paw on it. Sitting still for a moment or two, the intelligent cat finally figured out what was missing from her day-to-day life.  
  
Legolas's voice or his presence.  
  
Ever since he had become a kitten to her Marilla could tell where he was, what he was doing. The connection to each of them was that strong that both could almost tell what the other was thinking. Now there was nothing, no softly spoken voice or a pat as he walked passed his bedroom to the stables. This could only mean one thing.  
  
Streaking out of the room at top speed on silent paws, Marilla went to find her kitten.  
  
~*~  
  
Rousing himself from a unrestful doze, Legolas looked up at the cave entrance of where the orcs were currntly residing. Shifting in pain, Legolas realised that he was actually becoming quite cold, which was a strange and almost new sensation to him.  
  
'The weather must be changing,' he thought to himself and looked up at the black clouds in slight fear as he remembered that you weren't meant to be outside during a thunderstorm. Breathing for a few moments, the elfling could smell something else in the wind and temperature but was utterly confused at what the hidden message was.  
  
Shifting again, Legolas held back a groan of pain as his limbs began to cramp up at being in one place too long. After attempting to escap a couple of times from the orcs, the creatures and finally grown half a brain and tied the elfling up aginst a tree.  
  
The orcs had made him kneel as they had tied a rope around his wrists, making him sit in a kneeling position that was most uncomfortable for his slender legs and severely injured knee.  
  
His wrists and shoulders were also starting to hurt, his right hand starting to lose the feeling in it. Legolas was no longer able to move it at all, as it sent waves of pain and general misery all through it. The warm water that was slipping from his forehead and down to his face, he had frighteningly discovered, was in actual fact blood. This was easily found out because it had started to clot and was clogging up his vision and dripped onto his lips.  
  
Breathing was also becoming a laboured task, and coughing seemed to make it worst, the kick the orc had given him was where the most sever pain was coming from and Legolas had heard of tales of broken ribs puncturing lungs and the victim quickly suffercating in his own blood each time he drew breath.  
  
Legolas was completely and utterly alone, and he was terrified.  
  
****  
  
Translations:  
  
1) Hothron, neled uuun hal near. Min a rokh. Tad most mavren yrch or edain. = Captain, three creatures draw near, one a horse, two most likely orcs or men.  
  
2) Mae govannen. = Well met.  
  
3) SIIN! = NOW!  
  
AN: Delay . . . aren't they bitches?  
  
Chapter 5 is going to be a littler later than I intended. This is mostly because I've been in and out of hospital for the last three weeks and that my pet Rat, Marco is a little sick at the moment (but he'll be fine) and he requires my attention until he's more comfortable.  
  
Ok, you people probably think that I've lost my marbles with saying that an elf can die from exposure. But hear me out.  
  
My friend (JazzAJewel) and I have this theory that is flawed, but still it's a theory. And here it is.  
  
When we are born we have our mothers immunity, but we need colostrum and vaccinations to built up our own over the years, at about 19 or 23 years of age. Now my friend Jazz's dad is a doctor and we asked him the question of how long it could take for an immortal to built up immunity to everything. Now he went by humans and said that with technology (which he said could stand for elf magic in our terms) humans can now expect to live to 107 or even 110. He said it would probably take us until 38 years of age to build up enough immunity to live until that age.  
  
So he then spent many minutes calculating and came up with the age of 450.87 years. He said until that time the body of an elf, while immortal, could actually get sick. But he explained that illness isn't necessarily a thing like a cold, it's the bodies way of ridding itself of the foreign particles, that's why we get fevers, sneezes and other things like rashes.  
  
So a very VERY flawed theory, but it's my excuse to use when and if I want to make an elf sick.  
  
My cousin Adrian read this and asked why the elves switch from their tongue to English. The reason is simple, I used to live in Sydney about 3 years ago and was best friends with a Japanese boy named Ken, now whenever he was in trouble, frightened, thinking to himself or observing something he would slip into Japanese and I'd have to ask him what he just said. So this is a bit of a tribut to him with the language thing, because I once told him he reminded me of a Orental Elf. Which is now his nickname on his year 10 shirt. 


	5. A Change In Fortunes

Chapter 5: A Change In Fortunes  
  
"The weather is changing," Yávëtal quietly observed to himself as a roll thunder blanketed itself over their fair heads. The twelve elves had been tracking Jewel's hoof prints for the last two hours and finding nothing to satisfy his growing sense of danger about his younger sibling, Lúrin was now questioning his motives for leading the young elves out into where certain danger was almost behind every tree.  
  
Looking up at Yávëtal's soft voice Lúrin, sighed. He was thankful that he'd packed extra clothing before he'd left. Not for himself, but for Legolas. From the description and knowing his younger brother, he'd probably gone out in nothing more than his simple leggens and a light woollen shirt.  
  
A few minutes later the search party found themselves in the exact same field as Legolas had been earlier that morning. The green and gold grass waved lazily beneath their feet, giving no hint or puzzle piece that it had seen any distraction from it's blissful life.  
  
Neldëá and Gorë were ahead, scouting the field for any trace of where Legolas might have gone or if he was in sound health. The twins were tracking the hoof-prints, making especially sure not to cover them with their own foot falls, while those two were close to the ground the others were keeping their eyes from the grass and alert for any movement or whisper of a strange sound, whether bird or orc.  
  
A strange calmness gradually spread itself over the field and the elves stood stone still, listening intently with their sharp ears. Yávëtal looked at Lúrin and signalled with his hand that something was amiss. Turning towards the others, Lúrin gave a quick command. "Dad, delio."  
  
As one, all the elves disappeared amongst the tall grass. Unknown to some, this was a hunting ground for the Mirkwood Elves as many prey lived in the open, safer there than within the trees where danger could hide. Yávëtal was now besides Lúrin and the elf leaned in closer to the leader.  
  
"Maur, lum ennas," Yávëtal immediately responded before Lúrin asked, "it's black speech."  
  
"Ai!" the elf cursed softly, "tiro, im kena hain." Lúrin rose swiftly, notching his bow and arrow as he rose.  
  
The other elf could do noting but whistle to the other elves to ready their arrows also. Twitting that was not of finches let him know that they were ready.  
  
"Aphado nin," called Lúrin and he released two arrows quicker than the eye could see. A shrill scream and thud followed, signalling that the older elf had hit his intended target.  
  
With that all of the elves jumped up from their hiding spots and sent arrows or daggers towards six orcs that had been butchering a deer carcase. Three had already fallen and another one soon followed.  
  
"One of these orcs must know where they're holding Legolas," Cassageln yelled to the others, "so don't kill them all!"  
  
Aglar nodded and threw a rock which connected with a retreating orcs ankle, breaking it on impact. The creature screamed in agony and went down hard. Aglar smiled and both of them raced to hold the creature as the others captured the other surprised orc.  
  
The elves dragged the bleeding orc and dumped it besides it's companion. Lúrin looked at the two orcs, who swore at him in black tongue and hissed to each other. "Nodo sain," Lúrin finally spat, "aníron peded na hain ar hain uthwen."  
  
Binding them was a difficult task as the orcs attempted to bite, scratch and kick at the young elves. But daggers to the throats by Aglar and Rambamírë, which seemed to have an effect on the orcs.  
  
"You have been trespassing upon our land and now we have been sent to send you back from where you were spawned, back into Mordor and within it's black lands." Lúrin said calmly, not giving away that he hoped the orcs would lead them group to Legolas.  
  
"Kill us then," grinned the orc with the broken ankle. "Or were you hoping for something that we might have?"  
  
"Lost something have you?" sneered the other orc as Aglar's dagged began to draw a little blood. It was quick to catch on to the look that a few of the elves passed between each other.  
  
"And we believe that you have found it," Lúrin responded with unsettling calm in his voice. "My company and I would very much like to have it back."  
  
"You won't get it back, it's ours and won't be of any use to you in a few hours." The other orc pronounced boldly. This, however, was the wrong thing to have said, and the orc realised this as the words left it's small smirking mouth.  
  
Cassageln's eyes grew dark and he pushed hard with his own white dagger against the orcs throat. The creatures eyes grew large as it realised that even if the elf was young, it was ready to kill it without a second thought. "You will regret that sentence, orc, as will you be ever sorry that you have our young brother!"  
  
"Garo lya lamm, Cassageln!" Lúrin replied harshly towards his brother. "That is our business here."  
  
Turning back to the orcs once again Lúrin looked the smirking one in the eye. "If you truly treasure you filthy hide, I would advise that you lead us to where he is being kept." Lúrin leaned in closer. "And prey that he is still alive."  
  
~*~  
  
It was cold.  
  
Sniffing a little as his nose began to run, Legolas looked around him to see if there was anyway for him to break or cut the ropes lose. He didn't think he would be able to wiggle out of the tightly bound ropes as they were making his hands too numb to feel.  
  
Sighing, the elf rested his chin back on his blood coated chest, trying to surpass a cough that again attempted to clear his chest. After breathing deeply for a few moments, then holding back the tears as his chest and stomach sharply protested Legolas looked around for a distraction.  
  
His mind wondered on and he vaguely noticed that his whole body was shaking from the cold.  
  
'Odd,' he thought to himself, 'I don't feel to cold, but . . .' his mind wondered again and he began to study the ground before him.  
  
For the first time, the five-year-old looked down at the ground and felt something that made him gasp in horror. Having hardly any skill with tracking, Legolas could still feel and somehow understand what lay in front of his small body.  
  
Huge paw prints were all around the small cave, but there were tiny trenches that showed that whatever the beast was, it had been dragged and had also bleeding heavily from a fatal wound. Crudely made clubs and black- tipped torches littered the entrance, also with blood within the sandy ground. Blood was everywhere, as was the smell of burnt fur.  
  
Looking even closer, Legolas saw that now upon the dust, distinct within the signs of conflict, were fresh dog prints, not pulled or yanked across, but made by steadfast, silent paws. It was while he trying to understand this that he sensed a sudden presence watching him. Looking up, he saw nothing but shadows shifting in the afternoon wind.  
  
It occurred to the elf that, as he again studied the sandy ground, he was within more danger then he thought, for whatever was here before was huge and sure to come back. And that was all he needed, some huge monster coming to eat him. Feeling as if he was being watched again, Legolas looked up and saw a movement within the corner of his eye.  
  
It took him a second to realise that he was staring at an actual wolf. It was a male wolf and it glanced at him before sniffing the ground before him, he was but seven adult elf strides from Legolas.  
  
After it was satisfied with the smells it had collected, the male looked up, directly at Legolas. He stood in the last gleaming rays of sunshine, and every whisker and hair was brought to life with light. His eyes were crystalline amber gems, with his fur looking velvet-like it was copper on his upper nose and around his eyes. The sides of his nose, and his throat, were as white as milk. The rest of him was brown, grey, and shining.  
  
Completely taken with it, Legolas dared not to move, not that he could. The young male simply stared back, his gaze unblinking. He seemed at ease, curious at Legolas and almost observant of the elf in his territory.  
  
But the wolf again looked around and a change came over him. Every now and then, he would gaze at the elf with a clearly readable disbelief and it's easy composure with Legolas began to slid away. Finally it stopped and simply stared.  
  
The young male was watching the small elf with caution, tense and ready to spring away if Legolas so much as moved a muscle. Remembering that eye contact was dangerous and made animals even more nervous, the young elf looked down, not daring to stare for long periods of time into the wolf's eyes.  
  
Instead of turning back into the forest, the wolf came closer and started to sniff the perimeter of the tree where Legolas was tied to, snorting whenever anything such as dust went up his nose. It's ears were flickering backwards and forwards, towards Legolas and then in the direction the orcs had gone.  
  
It gradually came closer and closer and Legolas could feel his heartbeat starting to race as the huge dog came within an arms stretch of his face. Finally the wolf seemed to understand that Legolas meant it no harm and with this became bolder in it's investigation. The wolf started to breath its warm breath on Legolas's pants and around to his feet, it seemed to sense that the elf's knee was servery harmed and let it be. Staying clear of the injured knee and hand, the wolf continued it's curious exploration of the five-year-old.  
  
Legolas was not accustomed to dogs or any canine as he had never had any experience with one, and this wolf was huge compared to others that he'd seen run the borders of his home as he raced them through the trees. Squeezing his eyes shut, he with held himself from whimpering as the wolf moved closer and closer to his face.  
  
~*~  
  
A deep clap of thunder sounded and was intensified by the sudden lightning striking somewhere. The Thrandulion family were sitting close to each other watching the storm approach without speaking. The other elves tended the small fire and kept a close guard on the orcs, making double sure that the restraints were impossible to escape, though they took no chances.  
  
Alassë layed her head against her older brothers shoulder and sighed worriedly. "What's wrong?" Lúrin asked quietly, trying not to disturb Cassageln, who was sleeping nearby.  
  
"He's terrified of storms," was all she could say.  
  
"We will find him, he is probably giving the orcs hell and forgetting that a storm is even approaching." Lúrin lightly humoured his sister, trying to ease he worries about their younger brother.  
  
They both fell into silence again until Lúrin decided they needed rest. "We cannot help Legolas is we are lethargic and unable to lift our light weapons because we missed out on rest." Lúrin explained when Alassë began to protest. "Besides, it sets a bad example for Legolas."  
  
Many hours later the two woke up and found that in the space of a few short hours the temperature had dropped dramatically, not that it bothered them, but young elflings such as Legolas and Cassageln and his friends were affected by it the same way as humans. The elves had solved this problem by dressing more warmly and wrapping their cloaks around themselves more tightly.  
  
"I hope he's Ok," Cassageln stuttered trying to warm his fingers by rubbing them rapidly against each other. "I'm freezing and I have extra cloths on."  
  
"Don't speak of such things," Quendur hushed the younger elf with his voice. "Legolas is most likely afraid for his life . . ."  
  
". . . don't give the Valar another way to torment the young one." Gayadur finished his twins sentence.  
  
Feeling something wet touch and slide down his rosy cheek, Cassageln put his hand upon it and saw that a single snowflake, crystalline and perfect melt on the warmth of his slender fingertips. Looking up, he saw black and grey clouds moving slowly across the late sky.  
  
Snow was coming to Mirkwood.  
  
~*~  
  
Marilla paused, uncertain of where to go next. Sniffing the air with her sensitive nose, the cat could only tell that the temperature was freezing and that snow was about to fall, covering her hope of finding her kitten.  
  
Meowing to no-one, the white cat padded on top of a rock that was jumping out of the ground. Swishing her bottlebrush-like tail impatiently, Marilla again tried to pinpoint her kitten's whereabouts.  
  
There! A whiff of lavender and peach, his favourite soap to wash with, a blessed scent mixed with an unpleasant odour that made the cat growl in concern and anger.  
  
Looking back towards her home and meowing again, this time to the unknowing elves, Marilla again sprinted away, her tail held high and her nose to the ground.  
  
~*~  
  
"HOW CAN YOU LOSE A HORSE THAT SIZE?!" Rogan yelled in fury, the immediate response was for the young stable elf to babble.  
  
"We were . . . about to give her the nightly meal," Iendùre whimpered in response to the angered commander. "When I entered her stable she reared and hit out with her hooves, I fell back and she bolted, sending all the elves scattering in her path."  
  
Realising that the horse had worked on her own accord, Rogan clammed somewhat and dismissed Iendùre from his duties for the rest of the afternoon. With that done, he rushed for Thranduil chambers. Skidding to a halt outside of them, Rogan had a hunch about the sudden disappearance of the cat, children and now missing mare.  
  
"Enter," came the grave voice.  
  
"My lord," Rogan bowed and before the king could say anything, Rogan launched into potentially very hot and also deep water. "I believe that the reason the cat, children and Jewel are missing. . ."  
  
"The horse is missing again?" the king asked in total disbelief. "No, disrespect Rogan but am I being punished or are you're men and my kingdom unable to function properly?"  
  
"My lord, none of that is happening, but I believe the reason for the sudden disappearances are due to each setting out on their own search party."  
  
Thranduil leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose, indicating that a headache was approaching. "When did you come up with this solution?"  
  
Knowing full well that the king was being sarcastic, Rogan still had to answer. "It's all happened within the last 24 hours, my lord, Jewel escaping twenty minutes ago. They've all gone for Legolas, I think they know, well the animals anyway."  
  
"Know what?" Thranduil asked his attention drawn to this bit of unknown information.  
  
"His pets know where he is and are out to rescue him." The elf finished.  
  
*****  
  
Translations:  
  
1) Dad, delio. = Down, hide.  
  
2) Maur, lum ennas. = Voices, over there.  
  
3) Ai, tiro, im kena hain. = Ah, look, I see them.  
  
4) Aphado nin, = Follow me.  
  
5) Nodo sain, aníron peded na hain ar hain uthwen. = Bind them, I wish to speak to them without them escaping.  
  
6) Garo lya lamm, Cassageln! = Hold your tongue, Cassageln!  
  
AN: Sorry that I took so long in updating. But I had my year 10 trials and with Marco being sick (he's better now,) that and I've got a stupid English thing, for more info and if ya can help, read my profile.  
  
I've an interesting question for you people: Has anyone written a fic where the X-men or Ninja Turtles get thrown into Middle-Earth? No? Shame, I can see Raph and Legolas going at eachothers throats.  
  
I'm not too sure when the next chapter will be up, but maybe next week or so. We're nearing the end people. 


	6. An Mauya Mahtie: For You Must Fight

Chapter 6: An Mauya Mahtie (For You Must Fight)  
  
The wolf now had settled itself besides Legolas, his huge head resting gently in the elflings lap. With his head drooping over the wolfs own, Legolas slept. His breathing sounded lethargic and like a drowning animal gasping in breaths with water. Every now and then a drop of blood from his mouth would slip onto the wolfs nose and then dribble down upon it's paws, giving the animal a feral look whenever it stood to hunt or sitting up to stretch.  
  
Cold as it was, Legolas was kept slightly warm whenever the wolf's fur touched his face, hands or cuddled up with the now sick prince. With his mind having nothing to do he decided to name the wolf that had become his guardian. Lanthur he had called him, and the wolf seemed humbled by the name.  
  
Lanthur's ears pricked up, and the wolf raised his head, sniffing the air. Carefully, so as not to wake the sleeping elfling from his pleasant dreams, the wolf crept into the cold forest and searched out the new smell. Travelling for more than half-an-hour, Lanthur looped on wonderfully silent paws, making sure that the creature didn't hear him.  
  
It was with some shock the wolf was nearly leapt upon by a white fur ball. Backing away in shock, the wolf layed back it's ears and let out a howl-like whimper. The cat hissed challenge and Lanthur turned his head in amusement at the small creatures advances to his life.  
  
Barking a greeting, the wolf wagged his tail. This small four-legged white creature smelt of the one he was guarding, so his assumed it was a pack member. The cat sat upon it's hunches neatly, turned it's head, and meowed questioningly. Suddenly from far off, a high-pitched whinny was heard. Immediately, Lanthur's ears layed back and he cowered in fright. This huge creature was known to carry ones that could kill him and caution was utter most needed here.  
  
Marilla looked at Lanthur worriedly and growled that this creature was known to her, it meant him no harm and was on the same 'quest' as she was.  
  
Jewel whinnied again, and both the wolf and cat answered. A few minutes later, the cat was upon the broad mares back, both gave the wolf a meaningful look. With a yip, wag of the tail, the wolf bounded off into the forest. With cat and horse close on his tail.  
  
Before they could come close to the camp, the wolfs ears pricked up and his whole body quivered with concentration. Giving a deep bark, telling Marilla and Jewel to stay, Lanthur bounded to the borders of the camp.  
  
The orcs had returned from a hunt.  
  
Looking hurriedly around, Lanthur decided that the elfling was safe, as he was still sleeping. Whimpering slightly, Lanthur ran off to meet the horse and cat, to warn them not to approach, otherwise they could endanger the little elf without meaning too.  
  
Nickering in agreement, the cat and horse decided to find the party of other elfling soldiers. Going in different directions, the two domestic animals left the wild one to care and defend their little master.  
  
Hours passed and the two animals showed no sign of coming back any time soon, it had rained earlier, keeping the orcs in the cave and the wolf next to the fevered Legolas. He talked to Lanthur, about his home, family, friends and his animals.  
  
"They are very brave," he whispered slightly, and continued to watch the wolfs amber eyes with his grey ones. "You are very brave, I don't think I am though." Tears began to seep from his eyes, and he coughed, bringing up blood from his lungs. "I want my ada . . ." he whispered brokenly.  
  
Lanthur leaned in closer and licked the tears away from the hot face, Legolas continued to cry, but felt slightly comforted that at least he had something warm to cry upon.  
  
The temperature dropped that night, and while Lanthur had a temporary shelter where he had escaped from, Legolas did not. So feeling a maternal pull, the wolf stayed close to the shivering body of the small elf.  
  
Things went from bad to worse, as the night lengthened it rained lightly and then began to snow, lightly at first and then becoming thick very quickly.  
  
Now knowing that this could end in disaster, Lanthur began to chew on the ropes, but was stopped when he saw the moonlight glint off an arrow point that was directed at Legolas's heart.  
  
"Free him," it sneered, "and you both die." Lanthur bared his teeth and layed his ears back in response, growling menacingly at the orc on patrol. "You just keep growling, I'll make you growl about something in a minute, you mangy beast!"  
  
The orc let the arrow fly and it landed between the wolfs front paws, making Lanthur leap back in fright and surprise. Chuckling cruelly, the orc went deeper into the warm cave, leaving Lanthur to huddle next to the coughing elfling.  
  
Lanthur licked Legolas's red face and padded quietly away, his ears listening for any changes in his environment around him. Sniffing the ground every now and then, Lanthur would pause and see if any other creature, save for cat or horse, had passed by.  
  
Quarter of an hour after sunrise, the light of the sun sparkled off of the unmarked snow except for a lone wolf that was in search of someone who could help.  
  
Little did he know that help was just around a clearing.  
  
~*~  
  
Draugdil pulled his hood closer over his head, trying to fight the slight chill from the sudden snow-storm that night. Morning was approaching and on the second day of the search for the young prince was to begin in a few hours. Shaking snow from his brown boot, the tall elf closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the first rays of the sun beginning to creep over the hills and onto the small camp.  
  
Suddenly a howl alerted Draugdil, opening his eyes and keeping still he listened again. There again, this time a different howl, but not a hunting one. Deciding that something was happening, Draugdil put to his mind that a wolf was crossing into another clan's territory and letting them know about it, he intended no harm nor was he going to hunt there.  
  
It was on a mission.  
  
Alerted to attention, Draugdil prayed that the wolf would howl once more. After all, he'd not lived in the wild for three months and not learnt how predators and prey communicated between each other. The wolf howled again and Draugdil nearly whooped with joy, it had found Legolas! Or maybe a small child, but whatever it was the wolf was telling the other clan it was looking for its family.  
  
Not getting too excited, Draugdil remained in the same spot but decided to encourage the wolf over towards the small camp, where sleeping bodies were scattered all around. The two orcs huddled together underneath two thick blankets. After all, the elves wanted the orcs to lead them towards their hide out, and possibly not die before they did.  
  
Casting his eye around for any sign that any of his companions were waking, Draugdil started singing a tune for Legolas's safety and for the wolves protection, for the three siblings looking for their brother and for the clan of wolves. The howling between the two wolves was cut suddenly quiet as they listened to the perfect voice of the Elder.  
  
Suddenly, Draugdil felt a presence behind him, and in sudden hope he turned around.  
  
The rising sun was now huge against the cloudless sky, indicating a cool and calm day with little wind. Arching his neck a little Draugdil saw a male wolf in the shadows under the snow-covered trees. A little hesitant as to whether to follow the wolf, Draugdil cast his eyes around again on the camp.  
  
Making up his mind Draugdil nodded his head at the wolf, sending a message to it that he was going to follow him. Quickly Draugdil gathered his weapons and a few extra cloaks, if the need should arise.  
  
Again checking himself and the others, Draugdil looked for the wolf. Lanthur stood a little away from the trees, facing the deeper part of the forest paths that led to where Legolas was. He looked at Draugdil over his shoulder, his eyes like harvest moons.  
  
Trusting the wolf completely with this, Draugdil followed the leading grey tail that dashed through the low bushes. The pace was easy for the wolf and elf, as they were in their element. Although climbing and running through the trees was tempting, Draugdil kept his desire over his need to find the prince.  
  
As they came closer, the wolf let loose a string of barking-howls. Not loud but vocal enough to call to a mate or other wolf that he was passing. Instead of a wolfs call, a horse answered, and so did a cats  
  
"Ias bedich?" Draugdil panted gently, not understanding what the wolf was do or where it was now leading him. However, he didn't get a feeling in his heart that this was wrong nor was the wolf playing tricks.  
  
It was simply gathering friends.  
  
As they continued through the forest, snow was kicked up from both Lanthur and Draugdil's feet as they dashed across the beautiful yet dark forests of Mirkwood. Times were changing and more foes than friends were coming into the realm of the elf king.  
  
Draugdil was sure that every now and then he saw white out of the corner of his eye, and it had nothin to do with snow. His suspicion was clarified when a white mare broke across the trail, and again into the forest, a pearl-coloured cat on it's heels.  
  
"Jewel?" Draugdil asked, confused at the appearance of Legolas's cat and his mothers horse. "Marilla? What are you doing here?"  
  
Jewel came to a halt, and instantly Marilla was upon her back, trying to keep her paws warm and licking the cold snow off of them. The mare came to Draugdil and nuzzled his hand with her mouth, licking his cold fingers gently with her pink tongue. She seemed to be asking for Draugdil to follow them a little further. This was encouraged by Marilla meowing politely and offering her head for a scratch.  
  
Looking at the wolf, whose eyes shone like beacons, Draugdil patted Marilla's fluffy head, and dusted snow from the Jewels mane. The elf turned to the wolf and asked him to continue. With a snort, as if laughing at the elf's behaviour, it turned but didn't run off, now it padded cautiously.  
  
Pushing bushes aside, and careful so as to not disturb any birds or nesting birds, Draugdil had to keep himself from leaping out and grabbing Legolas right then.  
  
"They have him tied like a vicious beast," he muttered to himself viciously, looing down at the wolf, who's hackles were raised in anger and concern for the elfling. Draugdil was assured that at least the Mirkwood beasts were more merciful than the orcs. Draugdil realised that he had to get back to camp to alert the others, and avenge the torture that Legolas was going through.  
  
Closing his eyes, this was the one of the most painful things that Draugdil had to do, leave the elfling alone so that he could rescue him. Looking down at the wolf, Draugdil thanked it with a bow of his head.  
  
"Please, keep him safe." The elf murmured to the cat and horse as he slipped away.  
  
~*~  
  
Draugdil's two brothers were the next to wake.  
  
Rambamírë looked around sleepily and noticed that, after a head count, they were missing one of their company. "Algar," the middle child whispered, nudging his sibling awake. "Where's Draugdil?"  
  
"I don't know," his brother replied, rubbing his eyes and yawning, "but he was meant to be keeping watch."  
  
Fifteen minutes all the elves, including the three Thrandulion children, were wide awake and searching for their missing watcher.  
  
"Could he have perused a orc during the night?" Gayadur asked Lúrin confusedly. "One could have tried to get past and he caught it."  
  
"Nay," came his twins voice, "he went willingly with a wolf. It's tracks stop just before the clearing, whatever he was up to it may have something to do with our little orcs here."  
  
The two prisoners were still sleeping, unaware that they were being discussed. One snorted in it's sleep, and rolled over hissing in pain as it did. Cassageln watched the for a while, trying to decide whether to wake the creatures up or not.  
  
A twig snapping made Cassageln go completely ridged, and his sharp ears heard harsh breath coming from the woods. Not daring to put himself nor his family and friends in danger, the young elf kept his eyes from going to where they desperately wanted to look.  
  
A shout of shock went out and the orcs that were tied up suddenly had arrows pointing out of their bodies and heads. They were dead before they knew anything, or saw the completely furious elf still holding his bow up and pointed at the two unseen orc-corpses.  
  
The whole camp looked up and saw Draugdil, his anger and revenge now hidden under a mask. "We attack as seen as we have our weapons."  
  
"But we don't know where Legolas is, nor how to get there," Neldëá hesitated at making his ire even bigger. "If you did not notice, you just murdered our guides."  
  
"It's no more than they deserve," was all he said about that matter. "As for finding Legolas, we're not the only search party."  
  
Whistling suddenly, Draugdil waited and a howl answered. Soon a huge and young grey, brown and white wolf trotted into the camp, startling many of the elflings who held their weapons at the ready in case it attacked.  
  
Draugdil put his hand up, telling them that he meant them no harm whatsoever. "He knows where Legolas is, and I suspect that he's the one who's been protecting him. And as I said," Draugdil looked hard at them all. "We attack without mercy, and we do it quietly."  
  
~*~  
  
"How many have disappeared so far, Sylgu?" asked Uger roughly, throwing another log onto the burning fire.  
  
Sylgu looked up and frowned. "How the hell should I know, what am I? A bloody counter?"  
  
"If we lose anymore, it'll be your head on this fire, now HOW MANY?!"  
  
"Six," Sylgu answered at once. "Only maybe four, there were four bodies when we searched. A stupid scuffle, knife marks and broken necks, filthy mongrels can't keep their own things to themselves."  
  
Diputs, the other orc, looked around wearily. "I can't wait to burn these scum forests, uneasy they make me." Only two orcs and their leader were there at the moment. The other five had been sent out to scout the area and hunt for the now afternoon meal, three hours had passed with no sign of them.  
  
The three orcs turned their back on the murmuring elf, not caring if he was delirious or dying at that particular moment. After all, he was no concern for them anymore.  
  
~*~  
  
The dizziness wouldn't go away.  
  
Blinking hard, Legolas cast his eyes around for Lanthur and wasn't there. Since the wolf had been near him the orcs had left Legolas to his own business, not talking to him, or even threatening the elfling, but leaving him to basically die and without help to end it quicker.  
  
They had left him there to die.  
  
His eyes again, for the thousandth time, searched the ground for anything to break the tight ropes that were rubbing his wrists raw. By nature he was a quiet child and rarely cried out or made much noise when playing, preferring to play by himself quietly.  
  
He had some close friends, but most of them, namely Elronds twin sons and his daughter Arwen, were to far to play with everyday. Cassageln wasn't much of a playmate for him as the elf was well over eight-hundred years older than his younger sibling, so hide-and-seek and tag wasn't much of a fun past time. Cats and horses weren't that much fun, especially when they clawed you at the spring, and Ruby was, for some reason or other, petrified of the waterfall. So all in all, Legolas had no reason to be loud or boisterous.  
  
Looking up, Legolas almost gasped with wonder and anxiety.  
  
A female elf was walking towards him, a soft smile on her cherry lips. She wore a simple white gown and her natural glow was bright, even to Legolas's eyes. He tried to warn her to leave, but she didn't seem to notice or she ignored his desperate warnings.  
  
Soon, though, she came within a stride of him. She knelt before Legolas and smiled brilliantly, her blue eyes beaming with pride and happiness.  
  
"Atara. . ." Legolas whispered, hardly daring to believe that his mother was alive.  
  
"Yes," the strange elf said, smiling as he remembered she would.  
  
Struggling to keep his eyes open, Legolas took a deep breath and almost choked on the next words in pain and grief. "You came back . . ."  
  
"No, I'm just here to help." Lasilaem replied softly and knelt before her youngest son.  
  
He felt like crying. Why wouldn't she come back? "I don't want to be alone, don't make me go back."  
  
"You're not going with me darling," She said more forcibly. "Not ever, I'm sorry."  
  
"I'm scared," Legolas whispered very softly.  
  
"You're safe now." His mother spoke, tears shining in her beautiful blue eyes, his eyes if they'd been the same colour as hers, but the same shape. "Don't be afraid."  
  
"I . . . I tried to tell them, I was sorry . . ." to the little elf, this seemed extremely important, to others it was delirium and fever that spoke.  
  
"No, their souls died when they are turned, they do not understand." Lasilaem explained, she so wanted to grab him in her arms and make the pain of loneliness disappear.  
  
"Make them go away, please," Legolas begged pathetically. "I want go home. . ."  
  
"I cannot," Valar, this was hard, she hated seeing him so heart-broken and scared, "be strong, my little one. They'll be here soon, I promise."  
  
"I'm trying . . ." his mother's vision was starting to swim. "I'm tired, mummy."  
  
"Just a little longer. . ." Lasilaem's voice trailed off.  
  
He let his tired gaze fall from his mothers beautiful face to the ground. It was too hard, his mouth kept slowly filling with small amounts of blood and it was agony to cough to clear his chest of the red liquid.  
  
The green tunic that he wore was caked from his neck to his waist with dark blood, and the smell was almost too nauseating for him to hold his stomach. Both of Legolas's left knee and small right hand were throbbing from the effect of not being treated immediately and being held in tight ropes.  
  
Blackness was pulling at the edges of the five-year-olds conscience and he was just starting to think about giving in when he heard him mothers voice calling to him urgently. "No, my little one, don't go there, it's not for you to go towards."  
  
Legolas's body refused to answer his mothers voice and the little elf started to panic. His breathing begun to hitch and his frame was seized by a harsh coughing fit. Spluttering droplets down his chest, Legolas just wanted it to end, or for his father to wrap his arms around him and rock him to sleep.  
  
His ears caught a commotion in front of him, but his eyes didn't register what he was seeing. Only when Uger's body fell in front of him, did something click. The eyes of the orc were glazing over quickly and somewhere in his mind, the little elfling prayed that the orc finally went to Mandos.  
  
He was being rescued, but maybe it was too late.  
  
***********  
  
Translations:  
  
1) Ias bedich? = Where are you going?  
  
Additional note: I gonna take a little time off of this fic for a while. I haven't been well enough to write how I want and frankly, each time I type on this particular story I come down sick again. Believe me, I've already tested it. Why do you think I went into hospital for a second time?  
  
I'm kinder running low on ideas as well, as I'm a good writer when it comes to killing and making people sic, but suck when it comes time for them to recover, so that's also why: to bring Legolas gradually back to his normal self, after all, who recovers in less than one chapter?  
  
I don't know how long this'll last, I might update next week or month, who knows, but this fic will be finished before I post anything else. I promise.  
  
Oh, I might make a fic related to his sister and two brothers before Legolas was born, wanna read it?  
  
If any of you people have any ideas, let me know, Ok?  
  
Love, Peace and The Beatles forever,  
  
Smego Baggins 


	7. Losing Battles and Conquering Over Time

Chapter 7: Losing Battles and Conquering Over Time  
  
Snow barely crunched beneath the silent footsteps of Quendur as he and his twin snuck up on one unsuspecting orc, who was patrolling the area. Putting one of his gloved hands over it's mouth the elf silt the orcs throat and shoved him away before climbing up the trees to just above the cave.  
  
It had only taken three minutes for the elves to come up with a plan of attack. The twins would come from the trees, kill the orcs closes to them and go back up, give a signal that all was clear and grab Legolas. But when Neldëá looked closer, she said it was too risky for him to hauled out, so assignation of the orcs was a major priority now.  
  
Somehow, something went wrong.  
  
An orc gave a shout and suddenly most of the elves were completely surrounded by orc's, pointing their weapons at them. It turned out that the previous orc party had banded with another twenty, leaving the young elflings completely outnumbered.  
  
Standing, with his hands in the air, Lúrin whistled for the remaining elves, who were in the trees, to change position and take out as many as they could.  
  
Finch whistles answered, and Lúrin looked at his remaining men, and prayed that this worked. "NOW!!!" he screamed, taking the orcs by surprise, who cried out in horror. All of them leaped into action, Lúrin taking his twin blades and shoving them in the nearest orc neck, he twirled and then put a white blade into the chest of an orc coming up behind.  
  
Suddenly a whinnying scream was heard, and Lúrin was afraid that Jewel had been injured, but he saw that she, Marilla and the wolf were joining in on the act. Marilla slicing at ankles, while the wolf attacked above.  
  
The twins and Dagorma, Gorë and Neldëá were doing their best to take out the orcs that came to close to Legolas's body, preventing even more injury. Meanwhile, Yávëtal sided with Cassageln, Draugdil and Rambamírë who were yelling each time they killed or injured.  
  
But the most amazing of the fighters were Alassë and Algar, they worked with each other, using each other to fool an orc into going in the wrong direction, while the other threw a dagger or arrow.  
  
Within minutes the fight was over and all of the enemy lay dead at the feet of the young ones, who looked at this type of power with amazement.  
  
His weapons now held loosely in his hands, dripping orc blood down the beautiful engravings, Lúrin breathed hard, his breaths hitching in his chest as he gasped for oxygen.  
  
Quickly composing himself, Lúrin placed his daggers in their leather covers and rushed to his brothers side.  
  
Lifting Legolas's chin and finding the normally bright grey eyes closed, Lúrin instructed Draugdil to cut the ropes. That done, the elfling fell bonelessly onto his brothers chest and didn't move, Legolas's breathing was laboured and his chest hardly rose with each breath.  
  
Not wanting to lay his brother amongst the enemy's blood, Lúrin bundled the young elfling in a spare cloak and lifted him gently, careful of any broken bones that were most likely suffered from being contact with the orcs and their treatment.  
  
"Find a dry place, he's fading fast!" Lúrin cried to the others. Hearing his brothers voice, Legolas moaned and tried to call out, telling his brother that he was hurting him more. "No, shhhh, it's alright, you're safe."  
  
~*~  
  
Voices . . .  
  
They were everywhere and all around him, but he couldn't be sure where they were coming from or who they belonged to.  
  
". . . fading fast . . . " cried a panicked voice. He knew that voice, it belonged to Lúrin! Now that his body was warming, a sharp and needle-like pain was throbbing in his knee and hand, moaning to let his brother know, Legolas was only hushed.  
  
Minutes later he was placed in a warm bed, a fire crackling next to him. Hands began to frantically pull his blood-coated jacket from his clothing, when that was done, they began to take his shirt but when they tried to pull it over his puffed hand his scream of agony froze them all.  
  
". . . hand . . . Legolas?" Alassë's sweet voice soothed his tears for his ada, her cool hands calming his dizzily racing mind. Her voice drew him closer to waking, and not drifting between the dreaming and conscious worlds.  
  
"He's waking," came an unfamiliar voice. This made the elf want to wake more, to quench his curiosity of who the new person was. Opening his eyes, Legolas was assaulted by bright light and faces, closing his eyes tightly as his headache slammed itself against his skull. Moaning again Legolas tried to rub his soar forehead, and found it had a light bandage, his sister had placed it there while soothing his fears.  
  
Feeling shadows slide over his head, Legolas again attempted to open his eyes, it worked. There was no pain and his eyes didn't explode with tiny dots. Alassë smiled down at him and kissed his cheek.  
  
"You're back," she whispered, pushing away sweaty trundles. "You had us worried. Now, what hurts to cause you to scream so?"  
  
". . . mab . . . knee," his whispered, trying to keep himself from coughing up blood again. With that the strange elf ever so gently took and lifted his hand and inspected it, after trailing her fingers along the top of his hand, she nodded and confirmed that he had fractures within the bone.  
  
Biting his lip, Legolas kept from crying out again, not wanting to make his sister think he was weak. Alassë noticed and bent down to his pointed ear. "Even strength needs rest, do not be ashamed."  
  
"Non uu," he whispered in a watery voice, smiling slightly.  
  
Alassë frowned slightly, and a slender finger touched his chin. "That's where it's coming from." Looking at the strange elf, Alassë muttered something. Nodding the female elf seemed to have suspected something also. "Are you coughing up blood, Legolas?" Alassë asked.  
  
He hesitated for a second before nodding. Alassë's face lost a little colour but the elf maiden calmed her with a hand. "Neldëá, we need to get him home, fast."  
  
"Yes," Neldëá whispered, looking over her shoulder worriedly, "and quickly, it now seems."  
  
~*~  
  
A glorious morning rose to greet the elves who walked slowly under a golden shower of light. Light streamed down from the green trees, broken only by leaves that glowed green with it's own natural magic. Lúrin carried Legolas, his hand wrapped in a set bandage and resting on his small chest. A light wind played with Lúrin's hair, tickling his brothers nose and making him wrinkly it in reaction.  
  
They had wrapped him in many cloaks as putting the extra cloths on was to distressing for his injuries. In the parade of elves, Marilla rode on Jewel's rump, while Alassë and Cassageln rode on her back, wearily of how she'd take it as she had hated anyone riding her except her mistress, but surprisingly she took the to the riding of the other elves as if they were her own foals.  
  
Urgency was needed but every time they sped up, the elfling would cry out in pain, so being reduced to walking was not what Legolas really needed. Legolas needed proper care, not basic knowledge of how to splint a fractured hand and bruised knee.  
  
After checking his chest the two maidens suspected that he also had fractured or cracked ribs from the huge bruise on his chest, but apart from the obvious of him bringing up blood and a few fractures and bruises the only problem was him eating and taking fluids.  
  
He would take nothing, even though his mouth and body screamed for liquid. Even gentle coaxing from his sister wouldn't break the strange unwillingness to eat. And so, Legolas continued to grow weaker without any nourishment or water to help sustain his small frame.  
  
A gentle wind played with the elflings hair and Lúrin moved the stray strands from tickling the closed eyes. Sighing in frustration, Lúrin knew they still had half a days trek back to his home, it would have been cut dramatically had he been let to ride, but not daring to injure his sibling further kept the older Prince on foot.  
  
Legolas gently groaned in his sleep and began to fidget, his face screwing up in pain. Lúrin halted and tried to shift Legolas in a more comfortable position but the elfling continued to squirm into conscious.  
  
Finally Legolas opened his eyes and looked miserably up at his brother. "What's wrong?" Lúrin cooed to his younger brother.  
  
At these words, Legolas went red and mumbled between a gasp.  
  
"Pardon?" Lúrin asked confusedly.  
  
Noticing that the rest of the group had stop, the elfling glanced at them and turned even redder. "I really need to go, Lúrin, I can't hold on any more."  
  
Holding back his smile, Lúrin went off with his brother to take care of his needs.  
  
"He held on for over a day?" Gayadur exclaimed in awe.  
  
"Now THAT'S courage." His twin replied in equal wonder. ~*~  
  
Coming up a small rise, Lúrin saw a group of scouts awaiting for the group of missing elves. These scouts were usually on the borders of Mirkwood but had been called to accompany the elves, should the need arise, unlike warriors they were experts in their field and wasted little time to watch the elves coming.  
  
A party of them raced their horses to meet them. For the first time in Lúrin's life they became like children calling and shouting in greeting and joy. They whooped in greeting when they recognised the royal children, then they sent a scout to ride at breakneck speed back to the palace with the news. Soon another party of mounted riders appeared, this time warriors.  
  
Rogan, Dúloth, Táralóm the healer, and Taurereg were among the second party. Táralóm immediately raced for his daughter, picking her up and hold her tightly, for his fear of his daughters death was over.  
  
As parents and other family members hugged and cried their relief Lúrin and his other siblings continued to the healing halls with Rogan following the trio for company.  
  
The commander opened the heavy doors for the family and Lúrin stopped dead.  
  
Their father was sitting there, waiting for them.  
  
Silently the king rose and walked over to his family, embracing them all, careful of not harming his child anymore than was already done to him.  
  
For the first time in a while, their father smiled at them. "For you all, you will not be punished. I am eternally grateful, you four show a bond beyond that of simple sibling love. And it has saved you all."  
  
With that he gently took Legolas's currently unconscious form and laid it gently on the huge feather mattress. Tears of relief and worry shone in their fathers blue eyes as he stared down at his youngest son, who looked on the verge of death.  
  
A soft 'meow' brought him out his morbid thoughts and he saw the female cat staring at him, not asking for any comfort for itself, but clearly questioning whether he needed any.  
  
He rose a gentle hand and held it above her head where she rose a little and rubbed her head against his soft palm. With a twitch of her fluffy tail she twirled herself around gracefully and layed on Legolas's pillow.  
  
Thranduil caressed the tiny forehead with soft fingers, careful of the bandage that half-covered the deep gash of Legolas's brow, wondering why it was always the innocence that suffered first.  
  
Finished from welcoming his own daughter home safely, Taurereg rushed in with his daughter hot on his heels, relating the seriousness of the princelings injuries.  
  
Elf maids rushed around as Taurereg ordered them to gather bowls of warm water, clean towels, rags and warm clothes. His medical bags and other healing supplies were laid hastily on and round the healing room in unknown order but Taurereg seemed to know where his wanted instruments laid.  
  
Immediately he began working on the young elfling, taking off the rest of the soiled clothing and wrapping a warm blanket around his waist. Taurereg grimaced in sympathy as he gently pressed and felt the rising bruises that were appearing on the four-year-olds chest. He gently and carefully washed the blood from the elflings face, relieved to discover that his face had been mercifully left alone.  
  
Then Legolas came to.  
  
His glazed eyes took in the surroundings, of people he didn't know, and others who he hardly recognised. So the little elf did what every hurt or injured child would do.  
  
He panicked.  
  
The elfling started to thrash about, screaming for someone to help him and cursing the orc's that were holding him down. He attempted to bite, kick and punch his way out to freedom, even if it killed him.  
  
Thranduil had no choice but to sit at the head of his sons bed and calm the elfling down.  
  
"Ada! Tulu nin. Kara hain deri. Please!!" his son whimpered, grasping his fathers hand as tightly as humanely (or elfanley) possible.  
  
All his father could do was smooth the wispy hairs from his sons scared face, calming him with his hands and voice. "Shh . . . lada lay prestos." Thranduil spoke in tones that seemed to quieten the elfling greatly. "Huin tath uu negro the further. Let hain yulu."  
  
After a few minutes the elfling let the healers work on him, not wincing or crying out when they touched a partially sore spot, only breathing in sharply.  
  
~*~  
  
Many hours later Thranduil walked out of the room. All his siblings and then some came rushing at the king demanding him to tell how he was doing.  
  
"Resting," was all his father mumbled and went to his chamber, where he finally broke down. The reason for his silence and then tears was that he never knew a child could bleed so much or withstand so many toques poured down his throat.  
  
If it had been Thranduil, he would have just limped out of there, albeit crawled before he took any of the foul substances.  
  
The day melted into the night and Legolas laid quietly, but fidgety, dozing in his fathers arms. Thranduil's quiet mind decided to go over the situation again, back only a few hours ago when the little elfling had woken screaming in pain and vomiting up fresh blood all over the new bed sheets that had been laid over after they had finished cleaning up after healing him.  
  
Thranduil had screamed for Taurereg to hurry or he'd be looking for a new profession. The ruffled healer had rushed in, his hair a complete mess and his cloths crumpled from sleeping down the hall in a chair. He'd skidded to a halt in the door frame, assessed the situation and called for his companions.  
  
They had managed to settle the squirming prince, forcing another vile liquid down his young throat, then helped him wash out the blood in his mouth, then Taurereg cheerfully helped the elfling sleep once more.  
  
Outside, however, his mood turned to the uttermost seriousness. "My lord -" he began.  
  
"Taurereg, please, we're childhood friends, call me by my name."  
  
Taurereg sighed heavily. "Thranduil, he's bleeding inside."  
  
Something passed his friends faced, "Can you not simply give him a drought to soak the remaining blood?"  
  
"More blood would simply take it's place, I fear now we are even too late, if we had found him sooner, maybe he would have a slight chance at recovering."  
  
"What are you saying, in words I can understand."  
  
"I fear he may not make it through the night." Taurereg soothed, carefully watching the kings eyes for any loss of mental stability. Thankfully there was none.  
  
"You . . . you're saying that my child is going to die?" Thranduil finally stuttered. Taurereg simply nodded. "And there's nothing you can do?"  
  
"Only lessen his pain."  
  
Thranduil looked into the green eyes of Taurereg, and knew his best healer's normal joking manner was lost. He gave no hope because there simply was none to be found.  
  
"Oh Valar." Was all he could say.  
  
With that he had simply walked back into the healing chamber, to which he found his sons eyes opened. Even those few moments alone had made the elfling think he'd been abandoned. The flickering candle have gone out by a passing breeze.  
  
Thranduil took the offered hand, and sat down besides his youngest son, gathering him in his strong arms.  
  
"Please rooo . ." Legolas mumbled quietly and sleepily, clutching his fathers arms in a death grip, "non uu frightened."  
  
"I'll stay the whole night." His father murmured, rubbing his sons sore tummy gently.  
  
"All night?"  
  
"Yes," Thranduil soothed, kissing the golden halo. "All night."  
  
As the elfling drifted into sleep, he sighed happily.  
  
As he felt his son relax in his embrace, Thranduil did all he could to hold back a sob of pure grief.  
  
He was going to lose his youngest son, before he even had a chance to truly live.  
  
****  
  
Translations  
  
1) Mab = hand  
  
2) Ada! Tulu nin. Kara hain deri. Please!! = Daddy! Help me. Make them stop. Please!!  
  
3) Shh . . . lada lay prestos. Huin tath uu negro the further. Let hain yulu. = Shh . . . soothe your troubles. They will not pain you further. Let them help.  
  
4) Please rooo . . non uu frightened. = Please stay . . . I am frightened  
  
AN: Well, I'm back.  
  
I'm writing again and don't know when I'll update next, but I'll let you guys know.  
  
I've seen ROTK TWICE and frankly want to see it again. CANNOT wait till extended version goes out. One thing.  
  
I met Sir Ian McKellen.  
  
This was on New Years Eve/Day in Sydney and I was standing next to this guy about my grandfathers age when I said to him that the fireworks were terrific.  
  
"Yes," he sighed. "But not as good as Gandalf's are."  
  
I nodded my approval of the statement and said that if Gandalf did exist and was standing next to me I could imagine that Merry and Pippin would be off somewhere up to their old tricks.  
  
He looked down at me (I'm only 4'7) and smiled. Looking at him I then realised I'd been talking to one of my most favourite actors for fifteen minutes and didn't even know it.  
  
We both introduced ourselves and he asked me if I studied drama.  
  
"No," I said stupidly. "But I like horses."  
  
He smiled and asked, "by chance do you write?"  
  
"Yep," I nodded proudly. "I'm a freelance author for Orange and am constantly on FF.N."  
  
And for the rest (or most) of the night we sat watched the fireworks, counted in the new year and toasted (him with a drink I have no idea what it was and me with my coke) to 'the health and wealth of the world and the bright futures of fellowships everywhere.'  
  
Now THAT was a new year.  
  
Smego Baggins  
  
PS: BtW the person who put, 'Just Curious', who are you? Let me know, please? 


	8. Now Lay Me Down, My Soul To Keep

Chapter 8: Now Lay Me Down, My Soul To Keep  
  
The stars were dim that night.  
  
Instead of letting their soft light blend and weave between the moons own, they simply hung in the black inky sky like tiny crystals that had faded after millennia of use.  
  
Two set of eyes watched the moons progress across the sky, waiting with an almost baited breath for anything, or everything to happen.  
  
A cat and an anxious father saw the sky deepen in colour as light drifted across the world, leaving a black veil in it's wake, neither elf nor cat offered each other consolation as they were busy offering their own comfort to the child nestled safely in his fathers arms  
  
Many hours had passed and Thranduil laid on the feather mattress, his beloved son cradled protectively in his arms. Whenever Legolas had startled awake, of dreams that had orc faces leering and of wolves singing, Thranduil would sooth the youngster to sleep again by singing simple lullaby's or talking softly into an attentive pointed ear.  
  
"Ada," came Legolas's soft voice, three hours until the world of Middle- earth awoke with the sun. "I'm thirsty, may I have a drink of water?"  
  
Seeing that his sons lips were dry and cracked, the king slipped off the bed and walked over to where the jug of water was kept besides the door, for easy access. Finding a clean, wooden polished cup, Thranduil's mind came to thinking.  
  
Athelas could be used or combined in teas for stomach relief and calming those in sever stress, but no healer had ever thought to bring other healing plants into use when brewing Athelas, thinking the naturally powerful plant could cancel the other herbs power out.  
  
Shrugging, Thranduil quickly went over his healing training that he had learnt at the Last Alliance that came in handy, especially when it was the dead of night and no healer was to be found. Knowing and remembering which plants did what, Thranduil carefully set to work and busily started creating a tea that would most likely taste foul, but could and would aid in the body's own healing of internal injuries. If he mixed it correctly, that is.  
  
After crushing the plants into a past, the king then mixed a carefully measured dose of the green texture into the cup. Thranduil added chamomile for a more pleasant taste and peppermint for the nausea that his son was suffering. He added it to the boiling water, when enough was measured he carefully removed the plant material and walked to his sons bedside.  
  
Legolas had dozed off, due to the potions and drug-induced tonics given to him a few hours before. His eyes were closed. Showing he was running out of time to save him.  
  
Thranduil set the cup down and then carefully raised Legolas to a sitting position. Sliding in behind him, he propped him against his body, woke the young prince, and helped him to find the edge of the cup.  
  
The young elf grimaced at the taste at first, but after a few sips, the drink seemed to warm his body in ways that blankets and fires had failed to do in the past hours of the day. Cup empty, Legolas leaned against his fathers body and relaxed with a deep contented sigh, feeling like he wasn't frighting with a unknown being that wanted his soul.  
  
Keeping his eyes open, Legolas watched the dim stars brighten for the last few hours before they winked themselves to sleep.  
  
Like many youngsters do when they fall asleep, Legolas snuggled deeper into his fathers embrace and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his mind slipped into dreams that were almost like relief.  
  
~*~  
  
Startled awake, Thranduil looked around for what had forced him from the light doze he'd slipped into for, what he thought was, a few minutes. Looking around for the reason, the king looked down and found his son all snuggled up and contently sucking his thumb.  
  
Not bothering to pull the offending digit out of the child's mouth, Thranduil placed a cool palm against his sons forehead and was relieved to find no sign of a fever that had begun the night before.  
  
Gently slipping from his child's embrace, Thranduil stretched and was satisfied when he heard several cracks along his spine, releasing tension and potential cramping for later that day.  
  
Sensing that Legolas would be safe for at least a few minutes, Thranduil walked out of his child's room to see if he could find the healer at the breakfast table. He breathed in, feeling a wave of . . . oh how to describe the feeling . . . like peace calming the panic in his chest that wanted to either leap out of his throat or squeeze his lungs tightly. But now there was a quiet emptiness that wasn't in any way disturbing or quickly forgotten.  
  
When Thranduil walked into the hall he noticed that some of the servants eyes refused to meet his, guessing that he had come out to tell that the youngest of the Thranduilian's had passed on. However when Taurereg looked over and noticed that it wasn't grief that was coming from the king, but a certain pride . . . and knowing? Sighing, Taurereg let a small smile come to his lips.  
  
Putting his own food down, the healer walked over to Thranduil and waited for the answer. The king just looked at the healer not letting anything slip.  
  
"Taurereg," Thranduil asked with the air of a confident warrior, "is it not said that mercy is granted to those who need it most, but do not ask of it?"  
  
"Show me, Thranduil, do not give me riddles to solve on patients."  
  
Putting his plate of food down, Thranduil led the sceptical healer to the room of the young prince, who was currently resting peacefully, curled up under his blankets, comforter and thumb in their rightful places.  
  
Hating to wake the clearly tired child, Taurereg gently went over the princelings vitals, finding that his fever was still there, but only slight and that his breathing was steadily getting better, eve if he had a slight cold and raspy breathing, but the blood had stopped, so he was in no immediate danger.  
  
"I wish some of my other critical patients would suffer this type of ailment." The healer muttered under his breath, but the king heard it loud and clear.  
  
"And what medical ailment do you call this?" Thranduil replied, his blue eyes shining and a smile on his face much to the quiet annoyance of the healer.  
  
"A miracle." Taurereg answered, gathering his left-over supplies of herbs and medical equipment, noticing the cup, he picked it up and took a whiff of the contents. A small smile lit his confused features. "Athelas, peppermint, chamomile, basil. I see that you gambled, as you did on the battlefield."  
  
"What doesn't kill him will make him healthier." Thranduil answered.  
  
"Well, it doesn't seem to have any unwanted effects, it's made him slightly quieter, too. Though his knee is still bruised, his hand is healing nicely." Taurereg sighed, rubbing his eyes, feeling the weight of that past few days slip from him. "I should see how Neldëá is doing, she was quite upset at Legolas's condition."  
  
"She will make a fine healer one day," Thranduil comforted, "from what I've heard, she knew what she was doing and was level -headed, as well as a fine fighter."  
  
"I would prefer her to be a healer," Taurereg laughed slightly, "whenever a battle, no matter how small, she has to be there for the cause."  
  
"I know the feeling," was the kings reply.  
  
~*~  
  
It had now been two days since the rescue of the prince, and while he still was suffering from a runny nose and easily chilled, he was again his elfling self, a little quieter than normal but that was to be expected.  
  
Marilla hadn't left the princes side since the day that he'd been brought in deathly ill barely able to comprehend what was happening to him, the white cat simply had to coaxed by the elfling to eat and take care of herself, which seemed to distract Legolas most of the time.  
  
To keep himself sure that his younger brother was safe and happy Lúrin would spend a few hours, telling his young brother tales of the other creatures that lived in the forest of Mirkwood and other beings that roamed Middle-earth.  
  
The race of men seemed to capture his interest the most, and Lúrin would spend hours describing how they were different that elves and why the weren't immortal and did he know any, and that Legolas was going to one day find one and be best friends with them.  
  
"I can see that happening!" laughed his brother. "Next you'll telling me that a Dwarf will befriend you."  
  
"It could be possible." Legolas replied quietly. "A wolf saved me, did it not?"  
  
"I suppose," murmured Lúrin in thought.  
  
"Lúrin, do you know what happened to Lanthur?"  
  
Relaxing more into his brothers bed, Lúrin thought about it. "Well, I suppose he'll go back to his family, where he'll most likely become an alpha male, he'll have lots of cubs and be one of the best leaders that his clan has ever had."  
  
Legolas was quiet for a while and his brother started to worry at the sudden change. "What's wrong?"  
  
Legolas took a deep shaky breath. "At . . . the cave. I saw . . . signs of, heaps of paws that were being dragged away." He looked up at his brother, teary-eyed. "They murdered his whole family Lúrin, he has no one to care for him, Lanthur's alone."  
  
With a sigh, Lúrin knew what he had to do. "How about I find him a new home?"  
  
Shaking his head in earnest, Legolas grabbed onto his brothers arm. "We must bring him back!! The orcs will hunt him and kill him, he has been in the company of elves!!"  
  
Lúrin was completely confused as to what his brother was talking about. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"We've tainted him!!" Legolas cried. "His kind won't take him in and he'll be hunted by orc's, all because I've named him and he's placed his trust in me!"  
  
"Calm yourself, Legolas, please." Lúrin soothed holding his brother by his shoulders. "He's an animal that has survived in this harsh forest, if he can survive here, he will be alright."  
  
At these words Legolas burst into tears. "No, he won't." He sobbed harder and Lúrin embraced his young sibling.  
  
"I'll make sure that he is, if not than I'll coax him back. But Legolas," Lúrin stated firmly, "being tied up for his lifetime is not worth it. He'd rather die than be isolated, alone and left on a rope."  
  
Sniffing, Legolas wiped his eyes dry and nodded. "But he won't hurt anyone, he could live in the stables with Ruby."  
  
Lúrin had to laugh at the thought of a stable boy (or his father) going to saddle up the roan horse only to find a male wolf with the horse. The look on their face would be enough. "I doubt that they'd agree to that." His brother smiled weakly. "It could be a new dog."  
  
~*~  
  
The next day Lúrin had returned with a wolf at his heels, a look of confusion and worry within it's canine features. Many of the elves that spotted Lúrin with the wolf, gave their crowned prince strange looks but were given no explanation of why a predatory creature was allowed within the borders or why it was heading towards the palace.  
  
His senses on the wolf the whole time, Lúrin didn't fully trust the shaggy beast, especially when it was being brought to his injured brothers side. However, he did relax a little when it spotted the resting elfling and seemed to sigh in deeply and happily at finding the elfling alive and well.  
  
"Lúrin!!" cried Legolas happily. "You found Lanthur!!! You rescued him!!!"  
  
Smiling at his brothers joy, Lúrin allowed the wolf closer. Lanthur didn't jump on the bed but proceeded to sniff the elfling with enthusiasm and when satisfied, he gave a sigh through his mouth that held a grin.  
  
The two simply stared at one another for what seemed hours until Legolas broke away and looked at his brother.  
  
"He says thankyou and you're welcomed." Legolas spoke, although he sounded a little confused, "he also says that he was honoured to help and in his payment will help live off the rodents that are living off of our own food."  
  
Lanthur gave a short bark to say that he meant it.  
  
"And that he is thankful that you let him near our home."  
  
"He's welcomed." Lúrin replied, bowing slightly to the wolf, who wagged his tail in return. With a last adoring glance at the child he'd helped rescue, Lanthur whined and then bounded off, where they could hear him pounding away and howling to the morning.  
  
"Lúrin, what was he thanking you for?" Legolas asked confused.  
  
Lúrin sighed, but his face was bright with a smile. "Well, on my way to finding him, accidentally came upon another wolf, turns out it was Lanthur's mate, and so now we have a new clan living close by."  
  
"So, we'll be hearing them sing?" Legolas exclaimed in happiness.  
  
"As long as they don't come too close and don't injure any of our livestock." Lúrin replied, settling himself in a comfy chair. He set his weapons aside and stretched out, hearing various joints pop in a most satisfying way. "I was hard to convince him to leave his mate though, I had to coax him."  
  
Legolas's brow furrowed as he thought this over. "You were going to feed him Marilla, weren't you?"  
  
Lúrin couldn't help but laugh at this.  
  
***** AN: I'd like to make an apology to some misinformation that's in this. Twice I've written that the elf Táralóm is a healer and has a daughter. It is in FACT Taurereg who's the father of Neldëá. Táralóm is just one of the guards (one that I don't particularly like) and has no children of his own.  
  
Also I apologise that I've been really long in updating but a few things that have happened has prevented me from doing so earlier.  
  
The main reasons was because of the Sydney Royal Easter Show, where I won three 2nds (Dairy Goat Handlers, Best Presented and Angora Handlers) and won Champion at Alpaca Junior Judging. So that took up about two weeks or more.  
  
And then there's the death of my rat Marco. Now I know many people think that a rat is vermin and scum of the earth, but if you met my Marco, you'd throw those comments away. He's been dead for only three weeks and I still miss my little buddy terribly, he's not in pain anymore (he died of cancer three weeks this Wednesday).  
  
So this is dedicated to the little rat with a big heart who gave me a reason to live and brought joy to my life for three years.  
  
****  
  
Marco "Mr Rat" Drayton  
  
10 March 2001 to 6 April 2004  
  
You taught me that the true meaning to life was to have quarter of a choc- chip cookie, a medicine cup full of tea and someone to snuggle up against and crash out on every night . . . and to pine when they left for any amount of time.  
  
I'll miss you, little man.  
  
*** 


	9. Welcomed Visitors, Unwelcomed

Chapter 9: Welcomed Visitors, Unwelcomed Enemies  
  
Night crept over the lands and forest that was Mirkwood. Virgin snow was layed out before the trees that hovered over the ground, providing the creatures with minimum shelter and less food.  
  
High in the trees that night there was a stillness, as if life itself had been suspended. Neither bird or animal spoke and the only sound was the sporadic soft thud of snow from overladen boughs.  
  
Sleepy grey eyes watched the clear night as it passed, they blinked but refused to close for long periods or glaze over in a waking dream. This had been happening for the past few nights, Legolas would rest during the day period but would fight the night like a wounded animal refusing to let death conquer it's misery.  
  
The five-year-old shivered and snuggled further down into his bed, while feeling Marilla curl herself tighter against his side. He took a deep breath, hardly wincing as his ribs complained gently. Exhaling slowly he watched as the cloud of breath floated up and disappeared into nothingness.  
  
The soft glow of a candle flickered crazily as his breath disturbed it's stillness, than steading itself again and casting it's reassuring glow about the otherwise completely black room.  
  
Legolas sighed tiredly and scratched Marilla's white and pink velvet ear, which twitched at being touched. Again he ignored his now heavy eyes, yawning and stretching again.  
  
Invading sleep was becoming harder now, but Legolas was determined to betray his body's needs rather than face the demons that continued to haunt him, now being filled with crying wolves who's lives were being destroyed in the cave.  
  
Marilla stretched and yawned loudly, then layed still besides Legolas, turning her head around to look at her sleep deprived baby. She meowed at him gently, sensing his depleted energy and need for rest. Legolas smiled down at her, trying to reassure her that he was fine.  
  
She could see through his lie.  
  
The cat gracefully stretched again and leaped lightly off of the child's bed and gently padded away. Marilla always disappeared during the night, to wander the forests or inspect her surrounding home. Legolas took this time to re-read he letter that had come for him from the children of Elrond.  
  
'Dear Legolas,  
  
Father says that we are to see you within the next fortnight, so by the time you receive this letter we'll most likely see you the very next day.'  
  
This was in neat scrawl most likely Elrohir was writing, his right hand not smudging the wet ink. Not that Elladan was a messy writer but the curious things about twins was that when they were born one was a right hand writer while the other left.  
  
'We're bringing Arwen with us also, Father says that she enjoys being with us 'boys' and that she wants to meet you again. Between us three, Elrohir included, we believe that she likes you more than a friend.'  
  
'I do not,' came the handwriting of a distinctly feminine hand.  
  
'Don't worry, Legolas,' it was Elladan again, 'we'll protect you from Arwen trying to marry you.'  
  
Legolas could see the twins giggling as Arwen stamped her foot and went for Elrond to stop picking on their youngest sister.  
  
'We have to end the letter here, our dear friend, as Arwen has gone to get ada.  
  
Your favourite friends  
  
Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen.'  
  
Sitting back in his deep pillows, Legolas looked out to the stars again, noticing that a lightened hue began to hang on the horizon, meaning that dawn was creeping up on the world of Middle-Earth again. Putting the letter aside, the elfling snuggled back into his covers, shifting a wide yawn and grimacing in pain as he avoided his knee and gently layed on his favoured side.  
  
Tired grey eyes with just a hint of past sorrow and terror watched as the light came to bid him hello.  
  
The blessed golden morning would come, as it always would.  
  
Shivering slightly, even under his thick warm blankets, Legolas came back to consciousness only because a forgotten window lay opened, allowing a few snowflakes to drift in and land upon the elflings rosy soft cheeks and smooth forehead. Blinking the fuzzy and various cobwebs from his sleepy mind, Legolas realised his first mistake.  
  
He'd fallen asleep, thus leaving himself vulnerable to the nightmares that had plagued him for the last few weeks on end.  
  
This slight panic took over as he realised that he didn't also recognise the unknown figures standing in his entrance-way. Still blinking the sleep gunk out of his slightly glazed eyes, Legolas blindly grasped for any form of defensive tool or weaponry, while trying not to let his panic over take his coherency.  
  
What he found was a wooden toy sword.  
  
His injuries, which were extensive all over and still recovering, prevented him from moving off of the bed and into a fighting position. His knee, that was bound to minimise further damage or bruising, was continually being jarred from the elflings hurried movements, but Legolas bit back the squeal of pain that tried to escape through his clenched teeth, instead it came out as a nervous sob of desperation.  
  
The orc's had come to kill his family and then him.  
  
And he was positive that he wasn't going to let them do it without a fight.  
  
"It's good to play fights in the bedroom, Legolas," came a familiar voice, "but when you're stuck there it's a bit hard to attack the opposition."  
  
By this point his grey eyes had cleared enough to see that no orc was standing and his chamber door, only two dark haired elflings, one with piercing blue eyes, her brother soft grey. The boy stood there in a soft yellow jerkins that had elvan leaves woven into the fabric, with silver riding breeches. His sisters outfit was much the same, except her own jerkin was lilac with iris woven into it.  
  
"I can defend myself, whether I'm injured or not." The elfling prince replied, mocking anger. "I don't need your protection."  
  
The two elves looked at their friend for a moment, Legolas was confused at this sudden quietness of the usually loud three . . . wait, there was only two!!  
  
"Where is Elrohir?" Legolas suddenly asked, noticing which twin was finally missing.  
  
A sudden joyous smile lit Arwen's features. "Oh, we completely forgot, Elrohir heard about Jewel, and went to see her. . ."  
  
Even though the twins were the twins were a few hundred years than Legolas, more closer to Cassageln's age, they had found the five-year-old intelligent and full of energy to make even them exhausted, they were like close brothers to the prince.  
  
"No," the Mirkwood elfling gasped, a wave of fear watching over him. "They didn't . . . not after what she and I went through!"  
  
Elladan and Arwen glanced at each other for a few seconds in confusion. Why was their friend so upset at Jewel? What had she done to him to make him act in such a way? "She is still in the stall, if that is what worries you, Legolas."  
  
"She is?" he asked and missing colour replaced the paleness of his complexion once more. "Then why bring her name up amongst us?"  
  
"Well, our dumb brother, who loves any type of horses, heard that you haven't seen her since your brothers and sister found you. And he thought . . ." Arwen glanced towards the door, where their said brother, Elrohir, was standing, with a loose piece of leather hanging from behind his hands.  
  
Before Legolas could question Elrohir's lateness with greeting him, a beautiful white head poked itself around the doorframe and the animal nickered in greeting.  
  
"JEWEL!!" screamed Legolas in pure delight at having seen the white mare again. With the help of the other two elves, Legolas hopped over and threw his arms around the mares neck, weeping with happiness and thankfulness. "I heard you speak to Lanthur, and Marilla in turn. They led everyone to me. You all saved me. Thank you."  
  
The white mare lowered her great head to allow the child to hug her closer to himself. Pulling his head away from her neck, Legolas kissed her cheek gently.  
  
"Uume the ni mae, min fain mellon?" he whispered quietly into her ear that was close to his mouth. The only answer that he received from her was a soft nickering deep within her throat, assuring him that she was safe and glad to see him awake again.  
  
"This is a happy reunion," Elrohir remarked to his twin, who just smiled back.  
  
"The power of horsemanship." His brother added.  
  
Suddenly an older voice broke into the small gathering of children.  
  
"Legolas!" came the panicked voice of Lúrin as he came into the room. "What are you doing out of bed? You'll tear yourself up, tithen-min!"  
  
Confused, Legolas looked down at himself, from what he could see none of his limbs were sewn onto his body or torso. What was Lúrin so worried about? He wasn't falling apart, was he?  
  
"But I have no cuts on me, Lúrin." He protested as his brother scooped him up and carried him back to his huge bed. "What are you so worried about?"  
  
"I meant inside of you, your ribs need to heal, so does your knee." Lúrin assessed the bruising on his brothers small chest as well as his hand that was also now splinted, his brother squirmed in annoyance as his fingers probed still tender spots on the tiny body. Satisfied, Lúrin looked into his brothers determined grey eyes, smiling he just ruffled Legolas's hair, making it become messy and stand on-end. "Your tummy also needs to rid itself of the bruises and blood inside, so sit tight, alright?"  
  
Legolas just sighed boredly, and then looked over Lúrin's shoulder. Turning around Lúrin spotted the twins, Arwen and Jewel within the large room.  
  
"I think you should take Jewel back out to her stall, she should be getting her barn mash in a few minutes."  
  
Nodding the three left.  
  
"What do I do now!" Legolas whined. "It's boring, Marilla's gone off to catch mice and the other pets won't come near me. I haven't seen Lanthur in a solid week!"  
  
"That wolf's been here?" Lúrin asked shocked.  
  
"Of course!" Legolas replied as if everyone should have a wild wolf as a loving companion. "I let him in through the window." Suddenly the mood changed and he wend quiet and looking down he mumbled. "He keeps the dreams away."  
  
Lúrin pulled a wooden box out of a cupboard. "This should keep you happy." And he left.  
  
"But my hand is broken!" the five year old yelled after his brother, holding up the said limb for emphasise. Looking down at the box on the bed, he grumbled. "And I hate puzzles."  
  
"And then Elrohir brought Jewel in!!" it was now late in the night, all the elves had already gone to bed and Thranduil had come into his sons room, esquiring how the puzzle was going, he received a glare of attempted anger, but Legolas broke up in a fit of giggles at the raised eyebrow of his father.  
  
Now they were snuggled up on the huge bed, under the covers and retelling the days events. Thranduil confessed that he was as bored as Legolas was, except it was with a meeting about the crops.  
  
"I don't know what it is about the talk, but I was nearly sent to sleep."  
  
"Get Rogan to become boss of these things." Was his sons wise idea.  
  
"But then the others would have to swap jobs around," his father replied. "They would have no idea what to do."  
  
"That's what makes it fun."  
  
They lapsed into silence and soon Legolas was in a slight doze. Without hardly making a sound an unknown elf came in and whispered to the king that Thranduil was needed to sign some important papers.  
  
Nodding, the king rose and tucked his son in more comfortably.  
  
"Ada?"  
  
"Shh," he replied, kissing his son's forehead. "Nathon ad."  
  
"Tulad rato, ada." Was Legolas's groggy reply. "Nathon tirthe."  
  
"I will be, go back to sleep." A last kiss on the cheek and a another fussing with the blanket, Thranduil left intending to be back with his youngest as soon as possible so as he wouldn't wake up alone and become frightened at his fathers absence.  
  
Many hours passed and Thranduil was unfortunately kept up most of the night filling out the paper work and did not think to return to his sons chamber or send in a servant to report on his young son.  
  
Translation:  
  
1. Uume the ni mae, min fain mellon? = Will you be well, my white friend?  
  
2. Tithen-min = little-one.  
  
3. Nathon ad. = I will be back.  
  
4. Tulad rato, ada. Nathon tirthe = Come back soon, daddy. I will be waiting for you.  
  
I'm back.  
  
Nothing much has happened, still miss my little computer companion. Don't know when the next chapter will be up as I'm busy with year 11.  
  
Oh has anyone read The Delinquents? It's by an Aussie, and I suck with reviews. Please help.  
  
This also ties in with me going back to school, it's holidays here in good ol Australia, so here's a present for ya.  
  
Also, anyone got any ideas for any future fic's? I'm not running out of ideas, but I'm trying to write fic's that people are gonna read.  
  
Wish me luck on my exams.  
  
Love to all,  
  
Smego Baggins  
  



	10. The Echo Over The Voice

Dedication: For Patrick, who loved me and only me.

Chapter 10: The Echo Over The Voice

Something was different.

Coming slowly to consciousness and shifting himself gently, so as to not jar his knee, Legolas settled quite quickly and laid still, trying to determine what had become amiss in his room.

Sighing and forcing himself to grasp a silver strand of courage, Legolas looked up and surveyed his typically messy bedroom. Creepily everything was still in its place, either scattered on the playing rugs or sitting neatly on their shelves, watching him unblinkingly with their painted or button eyes.

The elfling shivered involuntary from the eternal gazes of his toys and again tried harder to focus on the 'missing' feeling.

Since he had been bed-ridden for so long (for a five-year-old, no doubt), he had suffered from mild cramps in his legs and sides and, whenever he felt one coming on, Thranduil or his three older siblings would help ease the muscle spasm with gentle massages. It also didn't help that for the last few days he'd been feeling worst from a slight fever that had been caused from the injured knee.

Feeling a strong tremor coming up in his legs, Legolas rolled over and was greeted with . . .

Nothing.

Panic had now started to streak through the elflings body as he realised that it was his fathers missing presence that had awoken him in the dead of night.

Something terrible was stirring below the surface, he could feel it.

Looking around uncertainly, Legolas didn't know what to do next, the twins and Arwen usually slept in the same room as their friend whenever they visited, to keep the boredom down and especially to keep track of where they were. However, as he was injured and needed rest rather than distractions from the other royal elflings antics Elrond thought it best that they shared accommodation with their mother, who had also come along on the trip.

"Ada?" his voice wavered unsteadily into the night. Hearing no answer, except for a distant echo, Legolas looked about him, wondering if he should risk injuring himself further in order to search out his parent.

His nerves and imagination were already notched to the highest level; the events that happened next did absolutely nothing too calm his mind or quell his fears.

Unknown to him two of Marilla's kittens, Hestia and her brother Salfmiaug, had banded together and were currently running amok with anything and generally harassing all of the elves in the palace. The elves that had taken the animals in for pets were the servants of the palace, while they searched for the little white monsters others were discovering where the culprits had already been.

As they went through the palace, kittens sprinting and crashing into vases and other breakables, their owners were vainly trying to catch them. They shouted commands loudly making any awake being believe that a huge army of dark creatures had come to the forest to take over the kingdom.

Thus Legolas became terrified.

Then, to his absolute horror, shadows seemed to come alive within his own bedroom. The wardrobe rattled and thumps came from within it. There were no weapons to defend himself with, and none of the guards or his nannies had come to protect him.

The wardrobe's door opened slowly, and he threw himself onto the ground, and muffling a scream of pain as his knee slammed onto the hard wooden floor that hadn't been covered by any rugs, leaving nothing to take the shock of his fall.

The shadows were closing.

And then they leapt.

His son as screaming. Pleading. Calling for his mother and father to help him.

Thinking it as only his dreams disturbance, Thranduil rolled over and buried himself deeper in the covers, becoming comfortable, again his mind settled. The desperate pleas continued and the king finally realised that Legolas's voice was echoing off the walls.

Throwing the blankets aside in a desperate bid to calm his son, Thranduil raced down the hall with the speed of an animal escaping its prey, he skidded to a halt outside of his five-year-olds bedroom door and peered in.

Thranduil found Legolas all but pressed against the far corner, Marilla in a death-grip hug, not looking all too happy about the way the elfling had a hold on her. The elflings eyes were huge and contrasted horribly with his unhealthy complexion and thin features. Legolas's eyes shone, but in fever, delirium and terrified tears.

He rocked back and forth, his unintelligible stuttering flying from Common Tongue one minute and Sindarin the next. Upon seeing his father in the doorway, Legolas let out a huge sob of relief and held out his trembling hand to his only link to reality.

As Thranduil grasped his sons tiny hand, he couldn't help but notice that his child's hand was clammy and sleek with sweat when held.

"They found me, ada!!" Legolas panted as his father sat next to him. "They want me, but I locked the door, they can't turn handles, can they?"

Trying to 'see' what his son was so terribly afraid of wasn't to hard to figure out, due to the fact that the supposedly sealed door was, in fact, Legolas's own wardrobe, with chairs and all other light and moveable furniture pressed against the doors.

As Thranduil settled himself next to his child's fevered body, ready for a night on the cold floor, Marilla meowed and Thranduil saw that his sons grip on the poor cat was like a steel trap.

Prying the little sweat drenched fingers off of Marilla's silky fur was harder than Thranduil thought. It was difficult even for the full grown elf to open the tiny hands that held the cat captive. As he finally managed this, his son squealed at the sudden lost grip of his mothers cat.

"Ada!!" Legolas's panicked cried now frantic. "Don't let Marilla loose, an orc will catch her if she wonders."

Setting the grateful cat down, his father turned to him. "I think she's too smart to wonder from you." Thranduil soothed, and true to his word, the white cat snuggled against her kitten instead of disappearing into the night.

Moments passed and the only sound that could be heard was the rapid breathing of the elfling, his father soothing sounds were also in the room, but they were low and comforting to his sons ears and the cat that now sat unmoving on his lap.

Now come to think about it, the wardrobe was also having trouble keeping quiet. A puzzled expression emerged on his fathers face and he rose to inquire about this problem.

"Ada," his son questioned worriedly, "mani naa lle umien?"

"Shh," he held up a hand to gather silence, trying to remember the sounds. "A!" with that, he strolled straight to the wardrobe and, after taking the light chairs away, pulled open the doors, and was instantly in battle with two terrified fur-balls.

When they realised that they were safe, the purring began and they immediately tried to charm their way out of punishment.

Holding them by the scruff, Thranduil placed the kittens gently on Legolas's soft bed. Sure that they were safe, he then bent down to lift Legolas, but stopped as the young elf grunted in pain.

"What hurts?" Thranduil asked gently.

"My knee, I fell on it when the kittens jumped into the wardrobe," he sniffed back painful tears. "It's getting better though."

"I'll still have Taurereg inspect it," Legolas sighed dramatically.

"I'm not dying, ada." He pouted, a scowl on his small features. His father just chuckled at the stubbornness that his youngest showed. Gently, so not to harm the child's already aching knee, Thranduil was a little concern at the slight fever and delirium that Legolas had showed minutes before, now he acted as though nothing had happened.

"I believe you, your elvan glow is like a lamp." Thranduil winked as he placed Legolas on his soft bed.

"I'm not that bright . . ." Legolas saw the trap and tried to stop himself from falling into it. Seeing his sons mouth clamped closed, he was reassured that it might not be anything too serious. But he being a father, besides a king, he still thought it a good idea to at least check on the still injured joint.

A full month had passed, the snow still falling and it was driving the young elflings crazy. Legolas still had a slight limp, but it would fade leaving him with no lasting effects. Sleep was also coming easier for the young prince, as the nightmares were subsiding and leaving him to rest and dream of whatever a five-year-old elf dreams of.

Marilla streaked down the corridor, with four elflings hot on her tail, squealing in pure delight at helping the grown cat escape from the kitchens after having devoured what sugary treats they could lay their hands on, and helping Marilla finish off a salmon that was meant to be a midday meal for Lúrin.

They heard rushing footsteps and attempted to rush faster to a place that was safer, and where they would escape possible punishment. Running faster they saw the stables in sight.

"Jewel will protect us!!" Legolas cried, a huge grin covering his rosy face.

"But there is a HUGE pile of snow!!" Arwen replied, she was starting to fear her father's wrath at finding out they had caused so much trouble. "We'll fall through!"

"We will?" Legolas pondered this problem and suddenly the situation was looking much brighter. "Are you positive?"

"Father had some humans stay for the last winter, they had children about our height, but they couldn't walk on the snow, they fell through." Elrohir explained.

His twin nodded. "They must be able to allow themselves to also walk through the snow as well!"

"Well, then we shall hid in the snow!" Legolas decided.

With that, the four elflings made a jump down the stairs, which was piled high with snow, unfortunately they learned a valuable lesson that day.

While humans can walk through snow, elves, it appeared, could not.

Not daunted at the least the quickly split up and hid in the various stables, sure enough, no one came looking for them for a while. Legolas gave Jewel a quick hug and some apple as a treat for hiding him, as Marilla purred her way around his feet.

Life was getting back to normal.

Translation:

1) Ada, Mani naa lle umien? Daddy, what are you doing?

2) A! Ah!

AN: This is the second last chapter of Marilla, I'll have the Epilogue up tomorrow.

On another sad note my budgie Patrick passed away in October, she had ovarian cancer which is apparently quite common in budgies.

But I still have Max and another crazy budgie called Spook. I have one question though: does anyone know of someone who's had a fic that seems to be cursed? Ever since I started this I've been diagnosed with Deep-Vein-Thrombosis, I lost my pet rat to cancer in April, I was put in hospital 3 DAYS before my Australian Alpaca Championship (I didn't go, cause I was too sick, and I would have won, cause there were only another 2 competitors), one of my goats from school died after giving birth to three babies, and now my 6-year-old budgie passed away. No offence, but I'll be glad when this fic is over.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic, and leave a review!!

Smego Baggins


	11. Epilogue

Dedication: For my readers, without them I never would have finished this. And especially to Farflung, Starlit Hope, Haldir's Heart and Soul (who ITHINK used to be Lady of Legolas, if not then for her too), and also to the odd review from the Anon's.

Epilogue

Three months later . . .

The light beams of the sun danced off the waters edge and was only broken when a body was thrown between the beams, disrupting the continuation of the lights travel to the water.

Squeals of delight and giggles of excitement rang loud and clear around the forest surrounding the edge. A long rope hung from an ancient willow that lent it strength each time a hand clasped the fibrous length, then it would swing out and over, where, with a triumphant hoot, the body would release and plunge, usually ungracefully into the water.

Now clad in noting but their grey leggings, Alassë wearing Lúrin's own silver shirt, the four Thranduilian children threw each other and themselves into the pristine water.

The two eldest, Lúrin and his sister Alassë, now held the youngest of the family by the wrists and ankles, and were swinging him towards being completely drenched. The more he wiggled to free himself, the faster the swings became. They looked towards one another, both mentally counting to three before tossing him towards the lake and into the awaiting arms of his father.

Legolas let out a high-pitched squeal filled with delighted panic as he felt his siblings let him go and soar, free as a bird, until his daddy's assuring hands safely caught him and they went under the water together.

Cassageln let out a whoop and raced for the hanging rope, he reached the bank and leapt, his body like a spear flying. Grabbing the rope in mid-air, he propelled himself to a higher advantage point, then let go and just before he hit the water somersaulted and bombed himself into the lake.

"LURIN!! NO!!" Alassë screamed as her older brother grabbed her waist and effortlessly lifted her. He went to dunk her into the water, but she suddenly wiggled out of his grasp and grabbed hold of his leg, and they both went in together. She resurfaced just as he did, but before he had a chance to gasp for breath she forcefully pushed down on his shoulders, making him fall under the surface in a ring of bubbles. Only as before, he suddenly grasped her wrists and dragged her down with him.

"A! TUA AMIN, ADA!!" she gasped before going under also.

"Are they trying to kill each other, ada?" asked Legolas, as he climbed onto his fathers thin shoulders, preparing himself to jump off.

"I doubt it," Thranduil replied, as Alassë and Lúrin came up, coughing and laughing as they splashed water at each other, Cassageln was continuing his swinging from the rope on the willow tree, each time coming up with a different summersault or way to throw himself in the water.

Life around the royal family had come to as close to normal, Thranduil mused as his son clambered about his body, including his son, who was less shy and more open to becoming a trouble maker. The white cat was ever by his side and his wife's horse was devoted to his command, although it wasn't strange to find them both going for wild rides in the open, but never near the grassland where Legolas had been captured.

Although he didn't like the thought of having his young son ride such a huge horse, Thranduil was powerless to stop them, as Jewel point blank refused to have any other elf ride her, only letting his son gain her trust again, through she did like the odd scratch behind the ears from the Mirkwood king himself.

Gaining his balance, Legolas stood on his fathers shoulders and with a large whoop, did a bomb and landed into the water. Under the water, it was beautiful, fish glided and sparkled like gems in the noon light, scattering when he chased them, or tried to swim with them.

Coming to the surface, he took a large gulp of air, and spotted Marilla sitting on the edge, looking torn between joining, but frightened of the water. Legolas waved over to her, and cried out.

"Marilla, come!!" he grinned as she hesitantly put a paw in the water and quickly shaking it with a look of betrayal on her face at the mention.

He swum over and gently rubbed heads with the cat, murmuring his love for her and that she would be safe, then slowly, so not to startle her, he picked her up and placed her in the water. She panicked momentarily, but Legolas's hands under her belly calmed her somewhat, after a few minutes of paddling, she rushed out and after she dried herself resembled a white porcupine.

Having the uncomfortable feeling that something was watching him, Legolas turned around and noticed a large wolf, watching almost longingly at his family's antics. Lanthur had returned after a four month absence, leaving the little elf to wonder if he was safe and well. Judging by the looks of it he was healthy and growing to be an even bigger size that he currently was.

Reaching out with a tender hand, Legolas whistled for Lanthur's attention. The wolf started, as if only noticing his presence and wagged his bushy tail slightly. Carefully it treaded closer to the elf, its eyes flickering towards Legolas's family, as if afraid they would shoot him.

The large head finally came into contact the tiny hand, and Legolas scratched the downy ears, and smelt the scent of pine-needles on the fur.

"Mankoi naa lle sinome?" Legolas asked gently. "I am safe now, the dreams have stopped. Be happy for me."

Lanthur whined and licked the side of Legolas's still wet face, making him giggle at the feeling. The wolf seemed to be surveying him for a second, snorted and trotted off in the woods.

"Ya nae tanya?" Cassageln asked, hanging from the tree above. He had watched the connection between Legolas and the wolf that he had seen when they rescued his little brother, and knowing that it held no harm, had let the wolf get closer to Legolas.

"Lanthur," was his brothers bright reply. And he swam off to join his family.

Lúrin, hearing the name of the wolf, just rolled his eyes and continued taunting his sister, who again pulled him under.

The End

Translation:

1. A! TUA AMIN, ADA!! AH! HELP ME, FATHER!!

2. Mankoi naa lle sinome? Why are you here?

3. Ya nae tanya? Who was that?

AN: Well, that's the end! I've finished Marilla and Dammerung, I'm in the planning stages for doing three stories **_before_** Legolas was born, ones revolving around his three siblings and their animal encounters, not too sure, I'll see if the idea is SHINY enough.

I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I've done writing, and hopefully will come up for future fics, BTW just an idea should I have Thranduil marry again? I know its so AU but it's just something that I wanna know, and another thing, how long could an animal live when it's in the company of elves? Cookies to people who review! And Legolas and Marilla plushie too!!

This is Smego Baggins signing off.


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